


How To Save A Life

by LilyAnson



Series: The Misadventures of Crowley and Sam Winchester [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood Addiction, Distrustful Dean, Hurt Crowley, Hurt/Comfort, Indecisive Sam, Language, M/M, Trials of Hell, Unrequited Love, Violence, Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 58,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4807622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyAnson/pseuds/LilyAnson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How many years has it been since I lost what it means to love or be loved? How many years has it been since I've even cared about love at all? The answer was simple. Too many." </p><p>What if Crowley's feelings took a different turn? (I got stuck on the "I just want to be loved" line.) Pseudo Mooseley & not Moosely</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS FOR SEASON 8 AND SEASON 9 EPISODES 1-3 to be safe.
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Authors live off of reviews. Please feed a starving author near you! (Please?)

  
  
_"Band of Brothers"? "The Pacific"? None of this means anything to you All those motels, you never once watched HBO, not once? "Girls"? You're my Marnie, Moose. And Hannah -- she just --she needs to be loved. She deserves it. Don't we all -- you, me -- we deserve to be loved. I deserve to be loved! I just want to be loved."_

_"What?"_

_"Would it be possible, Moose... I'd like... to ask you a-a favor, Sam. Earlier, when you were confessing back there... what did you say? I only ask because, given my history... it raises the question... Where do I start to even look for forgiveness? I mean..."_

_"How about we start with this?"_

_Sam raised the syringe filled with blood and Crowley hung his head. If this was the beginning to the path of forgiveness than so be it. Tilting his head to the side he allowed Sam unimpeded access to his neck._

\------------------------------------------------

"Sam stop, don't do this!"

"I have to finish this."

"This is killing you. You're going to die if you don't stop now!"

"If that's what it takes."

Crowley watched as Sam sliced the knife across his palm and walked closer.

_"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus."_

"What about your brother," Crowley pleaded. "Dean needs you!"

_"Hanc animam redintegra, lustra!"_

"Damn it Sam, I can't be responsible for your death. Not now! Please don't do this!"

.

The Impala slid into the courtyard sending rocks flying in all directions. Shoving the gearshift into park he flung the door open and raced to the church. The only thought in his head was to save Sammy before it was too late. As he reached the door Dean grabbed the handle and yanked but the door refused to budge.

"Sammy," Dean yelled banging on the door.

Please don't let it be too late, he thought. Backing up Dean got a running start and smashed into the door shoulder first. The door didn't budge. He repeated the process again and again desperate to get to his brother. A loud crack caught his attention and Dean quickly glanced up at the noise. A large chunk of stone had dislodged and was plummeting down straight for him. Dean dove out of the way just barely in time to avoid being crushed. Shards of the stone still peppered him when it collided with the ground.

.

The building began collapsing. Frantic Crowley glanced down at Sam. Sam had been hit by a piece of the collapsing ceiling moments before and hadn't moved since. There was just enough play in the chains binding his wrists to grab one of Sam's arms. Sliding his hands down Sam's arm he finally got to the wrist and checked for a pulse. Sam was alive; barely. He had to do some thing if they were going to keep it that way. Crowley reversed direction and started back up Sam's arm. When he reached the shoulder Crowley pulled until he somehow managed to yank Sam's head into his lap.

Glancing back to the ceiling Crowley watched as another chunk broke off and start to fall straight for them. Shifting he covered Sam as much as he could. The debris caught Crowley on his left shoulder and slid down his back. He cried out in pain but didn't move. He didn't dare. If any of the falling debris hit Sam it could kill him. Gritting his teeth Crowley continued doing what little he could to protect Sam.

When the door to the church burst open he had just enough leeway to tilt his head without leaving Sam too unprotected. Dean. There was a brief moment where Crowley felt relieved that the older Winchester was finally here. The moment lasted all of two seconds before the look on Dean's face had Crowley instantly concerned for his own well being.

"Crowley," Dean growled.

Another chunk of the ceiling broke off and fell hitting Crowley square on the back and knocking the wind out of his lungs. Bloody hell that hurt, Crowley raged internally. Just as he was beginning to get his breath back Dean was there. Gripping the back of his shirt Dean threw Crowley backward. As he landed hard on the ground Crowley felt the back of the chair dig into his spine painfully. A steady ringing noise assaulted his ears along with the sounds of the abandoned church crumbling around them. Before he could regain his bearings Dean suddenly appeared. Flinching backward Crowley had just enough time to realize he wasn't going to be able to avoid Dean's fist seconds before it collided with his face.

.

Groaning, Crowley winced in pain. Damn everything hurt. Blinking several times he tried to banish the darkness but the blackness persisted. Am I blind? He blinked a few more times but nothing changed. A persistent rumble caused his head to throb painfully. Groaning again he tried to sit up. There was a metallic clang as his head connected painfully with some thing solid. Cursing he reached up to rub his injured head only to realize some thing was preventing him from moving his arms too far. Carefully he tested the resistance. The shackles, he remembered suddenly. The church. Dean. Sam. What happened after Dean had arrived? Was Sam alright?

Suddenly Crowley was thrown sideways and his back collided painfully with some thing hard. The rumbling stopped and there was a slamming noise that sounded suspiciously like a car door. The Impala, Crowley realized. Reaching out he ran his hands over anything he could find. The trunk, he thought, I'm in the trunk of the Impala. That meant one of the Winchesters had to be okay didn't it? There was only the three of them at the church. If someone had thrown him in the trunk and driven off in the Impala one of the brothers had to be alright, right? A second car door slammed. Crowley reached up and beat on the inside of the trunk.

"Hey! Hey, open up! Sam? Dean?"

"Quiet, or I'll let you rot in there."

Dean, Crowley thought.

"Where's Sam? How is he? You got him out of the-"

"I swear if you don't shut up I'll kill you right now. I have more important things than you to worry about right now. Keep your mouth shut and maybe I'll let you out later. For now I better not hear another sound out of you. Do you understand me?"

"But you got Sam right?" He had know. He couldn't stand the thought that Sam hadn't made it out of the church. There had been two car doors he reminded himself. Two car doors meant both of the brothers made it out of the church didn't it?

"I don't have time for this right now. If you don't want to die than you'll shut your mouth. If you can keep quiet maybe I'll let you out of there later."

Crowley waited but there was only silence. "Dean?" No response. "Dean?" Still no response. Damn damn and damn. Suddenly the trunk popped open. Crowley winced and jerked backward away from the brightness that assaulted his eyes. Cautiously he cracked one eye open in time to see Dean reach down and place a strip of duct tape over his mouth. There was no sign of Sam anywhere. Crowley yelled against the duct tape. The scream came out as a muffled "Mmph." Dean slammed the trunk shut and darkness descended again.

Bloody hell, Crowley thought. If Sam was injured... No, the Winchesters weren't that easy to kill. Sam was fine, he told himself. _And you care why,_ some small part inside of him asked. Closing his eyes Crowley tried to shut out that voice. I care, he reassured himself. Sam shouldn't have sacrificed himself for me. I wasn't worth it. _You're still not worth it,_ the voice persisted. Shut up he raged back at the voice. _The people you've killed? Tortured? You really think you deserve to be saved?_ Shut up!

.

Hours or years, he didn't know. The only thing Crowley was sure of was that being left alone with nothing except his own thoughts was pure torture. He would do anything to get a break from the internal monologue running through his mind. He was so intent on trying to shut out the voice that he jumped in surprise when someone banged on the trunk.

"Crowley, listen up, you son of a bitch. One for yes, two for no. You alive?"

Dean? Still no Sam. Was Sam alright? He needed Sam to be alright so that he could take steps to make up for everything. Please let him be alright, he pleaded.

"Come on, don't be a pouter."

Reaching up Crowley banged his fists once against the inside of the trunk and waited.

"There we go."

Crowley waited as patiently as he could to see what Dean wanted.

"You prayed?"

Crowley frowned in confusion at the new voice and pressed his head closer to the metal trying to hear better.

"Yeah for help," Dean replied.

"You'll be helping me."

For a second there was only silence. What the hell, Crowley wondered. Some thing slammed against the top of the trunk and Crowley jerked back away from the noise. His head bounced off the bottom of the trunk painfully. Shaking his head he tried to focus.

"If you lie to me Dean Winchester I will rip your throat out. Where is Castiel?"

"Who's asking?"

"Try every angel that was ejected from their home."

Angels? This is bad. Not that angel business was ever good but this sounded worse than normal.

"Oh, well in that case I have no clue."

There was more banging against the trunk. Crowley racked his mind for the best course of action. Logic dictated that it was better to stay quiet and wait for the inevitable outcome. Some thing else inside, vying for his attention, was telling him he couldn't let anything happen to Dean. If Sam was alive he needed Dean, if Sam wasn't alive Crowley needed to make amends. Hell, he needed to make amends no matter what. Everything he had done to those two?

"Easy there, brother. This young man has prayed for our assistance. Are we creatures of wrath or compassion? I would argue the latter."

Crowley's frown deepened at the newest voice. Just what the bloody hell was going on out there?

"Forgive me, brother. I don't recognize you," replied the first stranger.

"Happy to make your re-acquaintance. After you disarm," stated the newest arrival.

There was a muffled noise that sounded suspiciously like someone punching someone.

"Come, now. Is that any way to treat a brother injured in the fall," the newest arrival asked.

Damn it, Crowley cursed. Whatever the hell was happening it didn't sound like this was going to end well. Bound in the trunk there wasn't much he could do to help. The muted sounds of fighting reached his ears. All Crowley could do was hope Dean would be alright when everything was said and done. The fight didn't last more than a minute or two before it was over and silence reigned again. Crowley was torn between beating on the trunk to get someone's attention and remaining quiet. Fuck it, he thought finally. Grasping his hands together he prepared to strike the trunk when someone spoke.

"Who are you?"

Crowley let out a sigh of relief. At least Dean was still alive. For now.

"Never mind me. You're Dean Winchester. I heard your prayer, and I am here to help."

There was another brief spate of silence before the trunk opened. Crowley squinted against the brightness.

"Mmm... Mmph-"

"Shut it Crowley," Dean ordered. "I don't have time to deal with you."

Dean gripped one of Crowley's shoulders and rolled him forward. Crowley winced as Dean's fingers dug painfully into the bruises on his shoulder. His face pressed against the bottom of the trunk reopening the cuts. As Dean shoved him back and Crowley barely managed to get a glimpse of the strange container in Dean's hands before the trunk was slammed shut once again.

Fucking hell! Things just kept getting better and better didn't they? _And what makes you think you deserve better?_ Crowley shut his eyes against the painful memories those words brought. He had given up on trying to argue with the voice. No matter how painful it was he knew he deserved this. Confined in this small space with nothing aside from some inner voice pointing out all of his flaws. Actually, Crowley thought bitterly, it was probably better than he deserved.

\-----------------------------------------

God his head was killing him. A bright light passed across his eyelids causing Sam to squint. After the light finally passed Sam blinked a few times trying to clear the sleep out of his eyes. The Impala? Glancing sideways he took in his brother. Dean seemed focused on the road but there was some thing else. Dean's expression was set in the the one he always wore when he was worried. Shifting in his seat Sam finally spoke.

"Where are we?"

"Sam?"

"What?"

"Okay, take it easy. How you feeling?"

"Tired. Like... Like I slept for a week."

"Well, try a day. You've been out since the sky was spittin' angels."

"What the hell happened," Sam asked as he turned to face his brother more directly.

"What do you remember?"

"The church, feeling like crap, the angels falling, and that's it."

"But you're feeling good?"

"Yeah. I mean, I just... Wait, you've been driving around with me passed out in the passenger's seat for a day?"

"Oh, I stopped, you know, let a few Japanese tourists take some pictures. Nobody got too handsy. I knew you'd pull through. I meant what I said at the church. You're capable of anything, Sam, and hell if you didn't prove me right."

"Good. 'Cause we got work to do."

\------------------------------------------

Sam eyed his brother who was currently laying on top of a picnic table. Dean was worried about some thing, there was no doubt about that. There was no point in asking though. Dean wouldn't talk unless he was ready. Sam was just going to have to wait until his brother was ready to discuss whatever was troubling him. Shaking his head Sam walked over and sat down at the table.

"So, what, Cass is human?"

Dean sighed heavily and sat up. "Ish. I mean, he's got no Grace, no wings, no... harp, whatever the hell else he had."

"Okay. Where'd he crash-land?"

"Called me from a pay phone from Longmont, Colorado. I told him just to make for the bunker."

"You think he can handle a road trip like that?"

"Cass is a big boy," Dean answered with a shrug. "Things go Breaking Bad, he knows our number. Right now we got bigger worries."

"The fallen angels?"

"Yeah. I mean, thanks to Metatron, we now have a couple of thousand confused loose nukes walking around down here."

"What do you think they're gonna do?"

"No damn clue."

"What about Crowley," Sam asked. "You, uh..." He trailed off and subtly mimed a slicing motion. There was no one else at the park right now but it didn't pay to take unnecessary chances.

"I would've loved nothing better than to ice that limey bitch. But then I thought to myself, what would Sam Winchester do?"

"I'd have stabbed him in the brain," Sam replied.

"Oh. Well, I figured the King of Hell might know a few things, so why not Zero Dark Thirty his ass?"

Sam frowned at that revelation. When Dean stood Sam followed him to the Impala.

"Wait, so Crowley is... alive?"

Dean opened the Impala's trunk. Sam stared down at Crowley still shackled, now with duct tape on his mouth, crammed into the Impala's trunk. For a moment Sam could have sworn he saw some thing in Crowley's eyes. Relief? Sam shook his head to clear it.

"Oh yeah. He's the junk in my trunk," Dean joked.

For some reason the sight of Crowley bound and effectively gagged in the trunk of the Impala didn't make him feel as good as he thought it would.

\-------------------------------------------

Crowley stumbled for what seemed like the hundredth time. Okay, so the blindfold he could almost understand. The earmuffs? Not so much. What did they think he was going to do if he could hear? A thought crossed his mind. What if the ear protection was so they could discuss how they were going to repay him for everything he had done to them? This time when he stumbled it didn't have anything to do with the terrain.

Hands firmly grasped his upper arms and kept him from falling. Crowley reminded himself whatever they did to him he deserved it. He probably deserved worse than anything they would do to him. Neither of the brothers were the type to torture just for the sake of inflicting pain. That thought should have given him some comfort but somehow it failed. Some part deep inside insisted that he deserved it, deserved the pain. If he could do nothing else to atone, perhaps this small penance would count for some thing.

The hands moved to his shoulders and pulled him to a stop. Sam's hands, Crowley thought. He didn't know how he was so sure when it had been Dean who had placed the bag over his over his head and put the earmuffs over his ears. Maybe it was because Sam was taller, Crowley reasoned. The hands rested on his shoulders easily, though Crowley knew either brother would be prepared if he tried anything. He almost shook his head at the thought. If they only knew how much he regretted the things he'd done they would know he wouldn't try to flee whatever was coming. After some time the hands gripped his shoulders and directed him forward slowly.

.

When the bag was pulled off of his head Crowley wasn't too surprised to see Dean as well as Sam. There had been two sets of footsteps following him on their way down. Raising his head he made eye contact with Dean and waited for the inevitable. Dean reached up and ripped off the duct tape covering Crowley's mouth.

"Owww," Crowley exclaimed as he winced against the sting. As the pain faded he turned his head back to face Dean. Before he could meet the elder Winchester's eyes Dean punched him.

"Never get tired of doing that," Dean informed him.

Bloody hell that hurt. Deciding it was in his better interest Crowley focused his eyes on the table instead of trying to meet Dean's eyes again. Meeting Sam's eyes was out of the question for reasons Crowley still couldn't understand. It was enough to know Sam was alright. Remaining still Crowley let his eyes slide closed. Whatever was going to happen would happen. He didn't need to see what was coming before hand.

"Alright, here's how it's gonna go. You're giving us the name of every demon on earth, and the people they're possessing," Sam stated bluntly.

In retrospect he should have expected that they would get straight to demon business. The request its self was completely doable, however he wasn't sure he wanted to part with that information just yet. Part of him wanted to comply immediately. Yet another part of him insisted that he ignore the request and make some snarky retort. Crowley struggled trying to decide how to respond.

"I saw you break down, Crowley; when I was trying to cure you. I know a part of you was human again, maybe still is," Sam said quietly.

If you only knew, Crowley thought. Still, Sam's quiet voice comforted him. God, how long has it been since you've felt comforted? Frowning Crowley tried to understand why that even mattered. A loud bang in front of him jarred Crowley out of his thoughts. Opening his eyes Crowley noted the paper and crayon now in front of him. Seriously? Just what did they think he would do with a proper writing utensil? He couldn't help but shake his head.

"Oh you're giving us their names," Dean insisted.

Crowley opened his mouth to protest that he hadn't meant he wouldn't give the names before he realized he hadn't really decided he would give them either. He began to shake his head again but stopped himself. Without moving his head he finally lifted his eyes to meet Sam's. As he watched the younger of the two brothers, Sam, raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. Crowley dropped his gaze back to the paper.

"If.. If I do this..." Crowley struggled, trying to get the words out.

"No deals Crowley," Dean growled.

"No," Crowley whispered. "I don't want to make a deal."

When a hand settled on his shoulder Crowley jumped. Turning he suddenly found himself looking up at Sam once again. Sam's eyes were curious, which was understandable, but there was some thing else in them. Compassion? Unable to stand it Crowley shifted uncomfortably and dropped his eyes back to the paper on the table in front of him.

"If I do this," he began again, "will it help?"

"Help," Sam asked.

"Yeah help. You know, help make up... for..." Crowley shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. "Make up for some of what I've done," he finished in a rush. Damn he hated being weak. He had promised himself centuries ago he would never be weak again. Being weak got you hurt or killed. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Hey?"

Sam's voice was quiet. Too quiet, too comforting; too nice. Crowley shook his head again without opening his eyes. "Just answer. Please?"

There was a brief moment of silence. Crowley could just imagine Sam and Dean staring at him with looks of pity.

"It's a start," Sam said finally.

Crowley merely nodded absently.

\----------------------------------------

"You're not seriously buying this are you?"

"I don't know Dean. You weren't there, you didn't see him."

"Are you serious? This is Crowley Sammy, King of Hell, remember?"

"I know who he is Dean. I'm just saying you weren't there. Something happened."

"Yeah, apparently he brainwashed you."

Sam ran a hand through his hair and glared at his brother.

"He's a demon Sam. Demons lie."

"I know," Sam snapped defensively. Dean was right, still he couldn't shake the feeling that something had happened in that church. That Crowley had changed somehow. Crowley's words echoed through Sam's mind once again. 'I deserve to be loved! I just want to be loved.' "You're probably right," Sam finally admitted.

"I know I am," Dean insisted. "Damn it." Dean let out a sigh before continuing. "Do you know what found when I arrive? You, bloody and unconscious. You were inside the Devil's Trap with Crowley and he was leaning over you like he was getting ready to kill you."

Unable to take the intensity in his brothers eyes Sam looked away.

"I don't even want to think about what would have happened if I hadn't gotten there when I did. If he had killed you..."

"I know Dean," Sam huffed exasperated.

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Then why are you taking up for him," Dean asked.

"I'm not," Sam insisted.

"Sure as hell sounds like you are."

"You know what? I'm too tired for this. If you want to talk about this later, fine. Right now I'm going to go lay down."

Sam stalked down the hall away from his brother. Some thing had happened in the church, he knew it. He just didn't know precisely what had happened. Until he could sort through everything there was no point in arguing with Dean. Dean was going to believe whatever he wanted. Reaching his bedroom Sam opened the door, entered the room and slammed the door shut behind himself.

"Fuck," he cursed as he ran a hand through his hair.

\-----------------------------------------

At least the lights were on. Generally speaking Crowley didn't have any issues with the dark. If he had, being a demon would have cured them centuries ago. The big reason he was grateful for the lights was that it helped to reassure him when the voice would return to torment him. It was much better being able to see the world around him when the voice taunted him than it was being lost in a dark void. It's nothing, Crowley reassured himself, just some kind of residual affect from the blood injections.

Crowley stared at the paper in front of him. Had he really agreed to give up the identities and whereabouts of all the demons possessing humans? What the hell was he thinking? That blood must have gotten to him more than he realized. Sam's blood, Crowley thought with a frown. Subconsciously he rubbed at the side of his neck as he remembered the events that led him here.

_'Your demon ass is going to be a mortal ass pretty damn quick.'_

_'You're the third trial, Crowley.'_

_'And Hannah, she just, she needs to be loved I deserve to be loved!'_

"I just want to be loved," whispered Crowley.

He still wasn't sure if he had actually known what he was saying at the church. Did he want to be loved? What exactly was love? It seemed that he had known what love was once, many years ago. How many years, he wondered. How many years has it been since I lost what it means to love or be loved? How many years has it been since I've even cared about love at all? The answer was simple. Too many.


	2. Chapter 2

Damn it! Of all the possible stupid things Sammy could ever do? Trusting a demon? Just, damn it! How the hell could Sam ever think he could trust a demon? Demons lied. Demons were the enemy. Crowley was the enemy. Just... Just, damn it! Dean paced back and forth trying to figure out how they had found themselves in this situation. If he hadn't arrived at the church when he did would Sammy even still be alive? Fuck. He wasn't going to be able to get any sleep, he might as well check on how the list was coming along.

\-------------

A strange noise startled him out of his thoughts. Crowley glanced up and noted the light in the room beyond. For reasons beyond his understanding he hoped it was Sam. It wasn't exactly that he disliked Dean so much as he felt he could understand Sam better. It was Sam's blood that was coursing through his veins, albeit temporarily. Crowley frowned at the thought. Why did he care so much that it was temporary? The shelves parted and Dean stood before him in the doorway.

"So how's the list coming?"

Crowley gave a mental sigh, of course it was Dean.

"I, uh, I haven't actually started."

"Well get starting."

Crowley gave another mental sigh and shook his head. Get starting? Well Dean certainly had a way with words even if he wasn't much of a conversationalist. Why couldn't it have been Sam, Crowley wondered. _What are you, sentimental?_ Damn it, Crowley thought. He was just getting used to not having the voice around.

"You should know Abbadon will want to take you down," he informed Dean.

"Yeah, well, you leave Abbadon to us and get started on the list. Like now."

"Abbadon isn't easily dismissed," he persisted. If he couldn't make Dean understand then Sam was in danger. _And why do you care?_ Crowley shook his head trying to dismiss the voice.

"You will finish that list," Dean insisted.

"I didn't say I wouldn't."

"Now."

Rolling his eyes Crowley sighed heavily.

"You having second thoughts?"

"Bite me."

"Oh, I'll do more than bite you," Dean assured him.

Glancing up, Crowley had just enough time to be worried for his safety before Dean's fist collided with his face.

\-----------

Blinking several times Sam looked around trying to remember where he was. No matter how much time he spent here he never thought of the bunker as 'home'. Waking up anywhere that was not the Impala always left him disoriented for a few moments. Sam groaned. What did it say about him that he felt like a car was more of a home than anything with walls? Shaking his head Sam sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Not quite ready to face his brother Sam wondered what to do. He could always check on how the list was coming along he supposed.

As his thoughts shifted to the newly (mostly) reformed demon Sam frowned. It wasn't that he doubted Crowley's desire to help, he just didn't understand it. Without having spoken the words the ritual wasn't complete. Why would Crowley, as a demon, want to do anything to help them? He wasn't going to get any answers sitting here. Shoving himself off the bed Sam stretched until he heard his back pop. No point in postponing things. The sooner he checked in with Crowley the sooner they could get to more important things.

\------------

If he had the strength he would have lifted his head defiantly and glared when he heard the noise in the next room. At this point that required much more effort than he was willing to expend. One round not enough, Crowley thought angrily. Fine, bring on round two! I can take anything you can dish out. When the shelves parted Crowley steadfastly refused to give Dean the satisfaction of acknowledging him. Instead he pointedly ignored the other man's arrival.

As the seconds ticked away curiosity finally got the better of him. Tilting his head slightly Crowley opened one eye. Well, he tried to at least. He managed to break the clotted blood almost gluing it shut but the swelling didn't allow for the eye to open much. Being mostly human really sucked. When he saw Sam instead of Dean Crowley froze. A beating he could take but the look in Sam's eyes...

"What happened?"

"What's it to you?"

"Dean," Sam asked.

Closing his eyes Crowley refused to even dignify that question with an answer.

"For what it's worth I'm sorry," Sam said quietly.

Crowley's brow creased in confusion. Opening his eyes he stared at the younger of the two brothers. Sorry? What the hell was he supposed to say to that? 'Yeah, no worries. Your brother worked me over but it's all good now. Thanks for the concern.' The words were on the tip of his tongue but Crowley couldn't force himself to say them. When Sam took a step forward Crowley involuntarily flinched backward and Sam stopped moving.

"Come to finish what your brother started," Crowley spat out angrily.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Crowley."

"Whatever, just get on with it. I have better things to do than play punching bag to you two."

"I seriously didn't come down here to hurt you. I only wanted to check on the list."

The list. Of course.

"Sorry I haven't finished that yet. Been a bit busy," Crowley replied snidely.

"I can see that," Sam replied moving closer. "Are you, uh, are you okay?"

"Fan-bloody-tastic, thanks for asking," Crowley grumbled. Damn his head was killing him.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Yeah, you could take these bloody chains off and let me go."

Sam glanced down to Crowley's wrists and frowned. Confused Crowley followed Sam's gaze. The chains binding his wrists cut into his skin painfully and had broken the skin along the edges. It wasn't bad but it stung like a bitch when he tried to bend his wrists. Crowley looked back up to Sam's face and waited.

"Looks painful," Sam said without taking his eyes off of Crowley's wrists.

Crowley's brow furrowed. "Uh..."

"I could loosen them," Sam offered finally looking up.

Crowley blinked a few times trying to figure out what was happening. "Why," he asked suspiciously.

"Just thought you might appreciate it," Sam answered with a shrug.

A Winchester... Doing some thing nice... For a demon... Crowley tried to wrap his head around that thought.

"Here, let me see them," Sam ordered extending a hand.

Too confused not to comply Crowley obeyed and held his wrists out. By all rights Sam should be demanding he finish the list not doing... whatever the hell he was doing. After everything Crowley had done to these two why would one of them want to do anything nice for him? Crowley stayed absolutely still as Sam loosened the shackles. When Sam was done he gently lowered Crowley's hands to the table and took a step back.

"Better?"

Unable to speak Crowley nodded woodenly.

"I have to go talk to Dean, you might want to get started on the list."

Crowley gave another nod and watched as Sam left.

What. The. Hell.

\----------

"You're up. How are you feeling?"

"Um, alright I suppose," Sam answered. Honestly he still wasn't feeling so hot but he wasn't going to tell his brother that. Dean would totally over-react and try to treat him like some kind of invalid.

"You suppose," Dean asked raising an eyebrow.

"I'm fine Dean. Hey, we need to talk."

"So talk."

"Is there any particular reason Crowley looks like he just participated in a cage match?"

"You went to see Crowley?"

"Why not? You did."

"He had it coming Sam. It was no more than he deserved."

"He's chained Dean. He can't even defend himself."

"Damn it Sam, why are you taking up for him?"

"Maybe because beating the holy hell out of someone who's helpless is beneath us," Sam answered hotly. "Or at least beneath me."

"He really did brainwash you, didn't he?"

"No, Dean, he didn't. I just happen to know right from wrong."

"Have you just forgotten everything he's done in the past?"

"I don't see how that justifies beating someone bloody who can't defend their self."

"Since when has some thing like that ever stopped him?"

"He's a demon Dean."

"Exactly my point, Sam, he's a demon. Nice to know you haven't forgotten that."

"I haven't forgotten anything, I just thought we were better than that."

"What the hell happened in that church?"

"What?"

"When you went in there you were my brother. Now I'm not sure who you are any more."

"I'm still me, I just didn't forgot what we were doing there. We were curing a demon, Dean. Making him human."

"Well in case you haven't realized this yet, we failed Sam. Hell's still open and Crowley's still a demon!"

"You weren't there! You didn't see him at the end. He's different!"

"He's a demon Sam! Period. He'll say anything if he thinks you'll let him go."

"Has he even asked to be let go? Think about Dean. Crowley's been nothing but cooperative since we brought him here."

"Yeah? Then where's the list?"

"I'm working on that," Sam shot back.

"You're working on that," Dean asked cocking an eyebrow.

"I'm telling you he's different. Why can't you just trust me on this?"

"Because he's Crowley."

"Would it kill you to give him a chance to prove me right?"

"Yeah, Sammy, it actually might."

"He's powerless and bound. Can't you give me one chance, just one, to prove I'm right?"

"And when he turns on you?"

"Then I'll admit you were right. Damn it Dean, just give me _one_ chance!"

"Fine, but the second he slips up I'm knifing him!"

"Fine but not one second before!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

Turning on his heels Sam angrily stalked off. Entering his room he slammed the door behind himself. Stalking over to the bed he dropped down onto it and stared at the ceiling. Fuck! Why wouldn't Dean just trust him? Maybe Crowley was still a demon but that didn't justify beating him to a pulp when he couldn't defend himself. So far Crowley hadn't done anything to warrant such treatment. After what happened in the church Sam was willing to let Crowley have the benefit of the doubt.

\----------

Crowley stared at the paper and sighed. Writing in crayon took up more space than a pen or pencil would have. The list of names covered both the front and back and still wasn't complete. He was going to need more paper. Until he got more there wasn't much else he could do. Picking up the crayon Crowley picked at it until he had it peeled off paper surrounding the crayon. He let out another sigh and put the crayon and its label down. When he heard footsteps approaching his head shot to the doorway. Sam?

When the door opened and Dean stared at him Crowley felt his hope die. Dropping his head he stared at the table. Sam had said he needed to talk to Dean. Of course after that conversation Dean would return to beat on him again. Maybe Dean would save them all a lot of hassle and just kill him, Crowley hoped. Like he could get that lucky.

"Not the hands," Crowley stated tiredly.

"What?"

"I said not the hands," he reiterated slightly louder. "If you break my fingers I can't finish the list."

Dean walked forward and Crowley pushed the paper across the table without looking up at him.

"I didn't have enough room. I need more paper," Crowley stated quietly.

"Just how many demons do you have possessing people?"

Having never actually consider the number Crowley did some quick math.

"If none are dead? Three hundred two and approximately forty or so more who consider themselves 'free-lance'."

"Free-lance?"

"They don't think I know they're working to undermine me." Crowley shrugged. "There wasn't any reason to kill them yet. I figured you would want their names as well." Unable to stand the silence he began to pick at the table. "So, uh, if you could get me some more paper..."

"Dean?"

Crowley froze at the sound of Sam's voice.

"What are you doing here," Sam asked.

"Checking on how the list was coming along. What are you doing here," Dean countered.

"I told you I would get the list."

Crowley didn't move as he heard the footsteps entering the room.

"Yeah, well, apparently we're going to need more paper," Dean stated.

Crowley bit his lip. He could care less what Dean thought of him but for some reason the thought of Sam knowing how many demons he had possessing people hurt. There was a low whistle and Crowley bit down on his lip harder. He felt his lip split and tasted blood. When someone placed a hand on his shoulder he flinched away.

"Hey?"

He sighed in relief at the sound of Sam's voice. Sam's presence soothed him on some level and dispelled the nagging voice reminding him of all of his faults and flaws. Despite that he didn't dare look up, too afraid of what he might find if he looked into Sam's eyes.

"I need more paper," he stated quietly.

"We'll get some later, okay?"

Crowley nodded not trusting himself to speak again.

"Can you look at me?"

Crowley took a deep breath and finally lifted his head to meet Sam's face.

"We're going to take care of some of your injuries, okay?"

Crowley frowned as Sam set a first-aid kit on the table and opened it.

"Why?"

Sam looked up from the contents of the first-aid kit. "Why what?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"You're still mostly human and you couldn't use your power with those bindings on even if you weren't. Since you can't heal that means we have to treat your wounds."

"No," Crowley stated simply.

Sam blinked at him and frowned. "No to what?"

"I don't want you to treat me," Crowley said glaring at Sam.

"Why?"

Crowley shook his head. It would be hard enough to explain it to Sam without Dean here. With Dean here? There was no way he wanted to give Dean anything else to use against him.

"Crowley?"

"No Sam."

"Why?"

"I don't want you to," he insisted.

"Why?"

Crowley set his jaw and stubbornly refused to answer.

"Please?"

Closing his eyes he dropped his head as he felt his resolve ebbing away. "Please don't," he pleaded quietly.

"Hey, you heard him. He doesn't want to be treated," Dean stated.

"Why Crowley," Sam insisted.

Crowley merely shook his head.

"Answer me. Please?"

It was the please that undid him. He couldn't help himself. As much as he was loathe to give Dean any more ammunition he couldn't stand Sam begging. "Not worth it," Crowley muttered.

"What?"

"Said I'm not worth it," he repeated slightly louder. "All the things I've done? All the people I've hurt? I don't deserve the help."

"Deserved or not, you need the help. Now look at me so I can get started," Sam ordered.

Nodding slightly and without opening his eyes Crowley raised his head. When hands touched his face Crowley almost jerked away. Somehow he managed to keep still and let Sam treat him. Sam's hands were gentle as washed away the blood and tended to the wounds. What did I ever do to deserve this, Crowley wondered. He did his best not to be comforted by Sam's efforts but failed miserably. No one had gone out of their way to take care of him in a very, very long time.

When Sam finished treating Crowley's face Crowley opened his eyes to watch the other man work. Sam was thorough, methodical and efficient. He was obviously practiced at treating various injuries. As Sam continued Crowley let his gaze drift to Dean. The second he made eye contact with the older brother Crowley flinched involuntarily.

"Sorry," Sam said softly without looking up.

Dean continued to glare at Crowley as if daring him to say some thing. Obviously Dean was pissed that Sam was treating him. Crowley wanted to tell Dean it wasn't his fault and if he had his way Sam wouldn't be treating him. Wisely Crowley didn't utter a word. He went back to watching Sam work instead. Time passed slowly before Sam finally started repacking the first-aid kit. Crowley was actually starting to feel better in a way he couldn't place but knew didn't have anything to do with the first-aid.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"No problem," Sam told him with a sad smile.

"Sam can I talk to you outside," Dean interrupted.

Just like that, whatever spell Sam had woven dissipated.

\----------

"What the hell Sam?"

"Now what Dean," Sam snapped.

"You want to tell me what's going on?"

"What are you talking about," Sam asked thoroughly confused.

"Crowley cooperating? You giving first-aid to flipping demon? What the hell?"

"First, I told you Crowley would cooperate you just didn't listen to me. Second, I _had_ to give him first-aid because of _you_. That's what the hell. I told you to give him a chance."

"I still don't trust him."

"I'm not asking you to trust him I'm asking you to trust me."

Dean shook his head and began pacing. Sam crossed his arms and waited for his brother to continue. Finally Dean stopped pacing and stood turned to face him.

"It just feels wrong."

There was no good response to that so Sam continued to wait.

"I mean, it's Crowley," Dean continued. "If there's anyone less deserving of trust..."

"He's different right now. I don't know how or why. Hell I don't even know if it's going to last but for now he's more human than demon."

"You know the blood's going to dissipate and the the ritual wasn't completed. This isn't going to last Sammy."

"Even if it doesn't last we could use all the help we can get. Especially with Cass who knows where right now."

"Cas is a big boy, he can handle himself. If he needs anything he knows he can always call us. What we need to be worried about right now is what we're going to do with Crowley."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm assuming you wouldn't appreciate it if I killed him after he's done with the list."

"Are you serious? Dean he hasn't done anything worth killing him over since we left the church. Not only that he's cooperating with us. With the ritual incomplete it's just a matter of time before his demon blood reasserts its self. Don't you think it'd be useful to have a demon working with us, especially when we have no idea what to do about the angels? Not to mention that we have no clue who would end up running hell if we did take Crowley out."

"You said it yourself. It's just a matter of time before his demon blood reasserts its self. If we take him in and get all cozy with him how are we going to know if we can really trust him? What if he suddenly decides it's not worth it anymore? What if he starts making plans to kill us or hand us over to some of his demon friends or any number of other equally crappy things?"

Sam started to respond but stopped. Dean did have a valid point. There was no guarantee Crowley's sudden change in attitude would be permanent. Once the human blood ran its course there was a very real possibility that he might revert back to his old self. Then what? They needed to find a way to ensure Crowley wouldn't revert back.

"I have a plan but you're not going to like it."

"I'm not going to like any plan that doesn't involve ganking that slippery bastard."

"Right now he feels... confused? I don't know, guilty maybe? The point is that right now he's experiencing human emotions. Emotions he hasn't felt since who knows when. I say we start there."

"And do what Sam, have a group therapy session? Talk about our feelings?"

"Build on them. Do things things to reinforce the positive emotions. Make him want to keep feeling good, or happy or whatever."

Dean just stared at Sam like he had lost his mind.

"Look threatening him isn't going to work. If all he gets is the negative shit then why would he want to continue feeling that way? We need to give him a reason to want to feel; a reason not to shake off what little humanity he has so far."

"So what, we take him out for ice cream?"

Sam stared at Dean intrigued at the suggestion. "Actually that's not a bad idea."

"Excuse me?"

"Okay, not the ice cream part but the outings," Sam mused.

"Outings? You want to take Crowley on field trips? Are you out of your mind?"

"It's actually not a bad idea. I mean we could start small, you know. Like just walking outside or some thing."

Rubbing his forehead Dean looked through his fingers to Sam for a while before dropping his arm. "Let me get this straight. You want to take Crowley, King of Hell, one of the most conniving demons we've ever met, for walks?"

"Well, what do you suggest, Dean?"

"Me? I suggest we gank the bastard."

"You promised Dean."

"Yeah, well I was wrong. Sammy nothing short of that ritual is going to reform a demon. Period. Hell I'm not even sure if I believe the ritual would have worked."

"I'll start small and we'll see what happens. You did promise me you would wait until he slipped up first."

"Fine, we wait, for now. I swear to you though, one slip up, no more. Understood?"

"Understood."

"And the chains stay on!"

"Fine," Sam agreed rolling his eyes.

\----------

Reaching over to his other arm Crowley slowly ran his fingers over the gauze covering the wrist. Giving first-aid to a prisoner? Yeah, okay, he could understand that. You didn't want a prisoner to die on you until you got everything you could from them. He would like to think there was more to it but Sam had been so professional; doing what was needed as quickly as possible. It would be highly stupid to read any more into it than that. The bindings were the most puzzling part. If it was solely about keeping your prisoner alive why worry about their comfort?

_"For what it's worth I'm sorry... I'm not here to hurt you Crowley."_

Crowley shook his head to clear it. It had to be a trick. Good cop, bad cop? He would have thought the brothers were above that. Obviously they had to have some scheme up their sleeves he just couldn't figure out what it was. Facts Crowley, he ordered himself. Dean didn't want Sam to die. They couldn't close the gates of hell. Having a list of all demons walking the Earth would be the next best thing. Was that really all there was to this? _And you thought, what, he cared about you?_ Bringing his hands up Crowley rubbed at his temples. Please just stop, he begged the voice.

\----------

Picking at his food Sam tried to think about where to start. In many ways this was like trying to teach a child, he mused. After his childhood Sam had never wanted children. He was terrified of the prospect actually. It wasn't as if he knew what a normal family should be like. Who in their right mind would let him raise a child? Glancing back at his food he realized he wasn't hungry anymore.

A thought struck Sam, was Crowley hungry? Was Crowley human enough to get hungry or did the demon blood still keep that from happening? Whatever, it was the gesture that counted. Deciding that it was as good a place to start as any Sam stood and began making a plate of food to take to Crowley. Snagging his own plate and a bottle of water on his way out Sam made his way down to the dungeon.

Opening the doors that led into the dungeon Sam walked in and set the plates down on the table. Crowley sat quietly with his arms crossed and scowl on his face. Sam refused to acknowledge the change in attitude as he went to grab a chair from the outer room. Setting the chair down Sam sat and finally looked to Crowley.

"Figured you might be hungry."

Crowley continued to scowl.

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. Ignoring the attitude Sam picked up his fork and began eating.

"What's the plan, pretend to be my friend until you get what you want and then kill me?"

Sam looked back up and blinked a few times. "What?"

"We're not besties Sam, never were. What's with the buddy-buddy attitude."

Sam paused to give himself time to choose his words carefully. "It's just who I am," he said finally. "You're right we're not best friends so we haven't spent a lot of time around each other. I don't like seeing people hurt so I loosened the cuffs. I treated your injuries because it needed to be done." Sam shrugged. "It's nothing more complicated than that."

"Of course not," Crowley replied. "And of course it has nothing to do with getting the list either."

Sam gave Crowley a small half-smile. "Of course it does. If I said different you'd know I was lying. It's just that there's more to it than that."

Crowley raised an eyebrow and waited.

"I think everyone deserves a second chance. I'm willing to believe you've changed until you prove me different. That's all."

"You really expect me to believe that?"

"Honestly? No. I expect it's going to be a while before you believe I'm telling you the truth." Sam gave another shrug and went back to eating.

"If you're so willing to give me a second chance then why the chains?"

"Because I realize what I'm saying is difficult to believe. I'm willing to give you a second chance. I just don't want you to do some thing you might regret before you realize I'm telling the truth."

For a moment the two of them sat watching each other.

"Why," Crowley finally asked.

"Why what?"

"Why would you want to give me a second chance?"

"Told you, I think everyone deserves a second chance. Your food's going to get cold," Sam informed Crowley.

"Not hungry," Crowley stated, pushing the plate away. "I have enough of myself left that I still don't need to worry about food."

"Like I said, suit yourself." Sam shrugged and went back to eating.

He should have expected this he realized. Of course Crowley would become defensive if people were 'too nice'. He was, after all, a demon. They were just going to have to find a way to push through this.

"What about Dean?"

Sam frowned at the question as he thought about how to answer it. "What about him," he asked to buy some time to come up with a good answer.

"How does he feel about your little experiment here?"

"It's not an experiment. I told you-"

"Yes, yes, second chances. Fine, I'll rephrase the question. How does Dean feel about you wanting to give me a second chance?"

"I didn't ask him," Sam said honestly. Bringing Dean into this right now would not help matters, he had to change the subject. "How do you feel about it?"

"Avoiding the question," Crowley asked raising an eyebrow.

"Not at all. I answered the question and asked one of my own."

"You didn't answer it, you carefully avoided it. Don't lie to me Sam."

"I told you I didn't ask how he felt about it. That is an answer."

"Semantics," Crowley stated waving a hand absently. "You know what I meant."

"I answered what you asked. What about you? Are you avoiding my question?"

"Whatever, your food's getting cold," Crowley growled.

Shrugging dispassionately Sam picked up his fork. This was going to be harder than he had anticipated. He had to find a way to break through the defensiveness before he could make any progress. Neither said a word as Sam finished eat. When he was done Sam grabbed both plates and stood.

\----------

"Leaving so soon," Crowley asked.

Sam turned back and eyed him carefully. "I don't have to."

Crowley tried to find a sarcastic response to that. Before he could come up with one Sam returned to the chair and sat back down. Crowley felt some thing that felt suspiciously like relief flood through him. I could care less if he left, he told himself. It's just boring sitting in here with nothing to do.

"How are you feeling," Sam asked breaking into Crowley's thoughts.

"Cramped," Crowley bit out desperately trying to cling to his attitude of indifference.

"We could go for a walk," Sam suggested.

Crowley stared at Sam dumbfounded. "A walk," he asked skeptically.

"Yeah, if you want."

.

Crowley inspected the room just outside his dungeon. Very utilitarian. Apparently whoever built this wasn't too big on comfort.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Don't give me that innocent routine. You know what I mean."

"Letting you walk around?"

"That's part of it."

"You said your muscles were getting cramped."

"So?"

"So I thought you might want to stretch them a little."

"I can't decide if you're missing the point on purpose or if you're seriously that thick."

Sam's brows knitted together and he seemed genuinely confused. Crowley fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Why are you giving me a 'second chance'?"

"I told you-"

"I know what you said. You and I both know there's more to it than that. So once again, why?"

\----------

"So once again, why?"

Dean stopped in his tracks at the sound of Crowley's voice. What the hell was he doing out of the dungeon? Damn it Sammy.

"I told you, I'm willing to believe you've changed until you prove me different."

"That's a risky proposal Moose. For all you know I could be plotting against you as we speak."

"Are you?"

"If I was why would I admit to it?"

Exactly, Dean thought.

"If you were plotting against us why would you bring it up at all?"

The silence lasted so long Dean almost stuck his head around the corner to see what was happening.

"You can't trust a demon Sam."

Dean might agree with the sentiments but it was odd hearing Crowley voice those words. What's your game, Dean wondered.

"Crowley." There was a brief pause before Sam spoke again. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"You can't trust demons. I'm a demon, I should know."

"You're not the average demon Crowley."

"Thanks for the compliment," Crowley bit out sarcastically.

"You're welcome," Sammy bit out imitating Crowley's sarcasm. "Despite what you think I do trust you."

"You shouldn't! Damn it Sam you're going to get yourself killed if you keep being this stupid. You're not invincible!"

"And you're not going to do anything to hurt me."

"You don't know that!"

"Being human is about having faith. I have faith you're better than that."

"I don't!"

\----------

Breathing heavily Crowley glared at the younger Winchester. He had to find a way to make Sam understand. Trying to befriend him was dangerous and would only get Sam killed or worse in the end. If anything happened to Sam... **Do no go there** , he told himself. The sudden rage dissolved. Walking to the nearest chair Crowley slumped down into it. Placing his arms on the table he dropped his head into his hands. After a few moments a hand gently rested on his shoulder.

"Hey?"

"Leave me alone," Crowley mumbled shrugging off Sam's hand from his shoulder.

"What's wrong? Talk to me."

"Leave it alone."

"You know I'm not going to do that."

"Damn it Sam stay away from me!"

"I just-"

"You think I don't know what you're trying to do? Play nice with Crowley. Let him think you're friends. He won't know the difference."

"That's not-"

"Well I can't do it anymore! I can't stand you coddling me anymore! Just stop it, stop pretending you care what happens to me! I've already agreed to give you the list, there's no reason to keep pretending you care."

"I care," Sam said quietly.

Crowley refused to answer and for a while the two sat in silence. When the pains struck Crowley couldn't stop from doubling over. Sam was at his side instantly trying to figure out what was wrong. Crowley tried to wave off Sam's concern but it was too much effort.

"What is it?"

Wrapping his arms around himself he shook as the cravings took their toll.

"Talk to me Crowley, what's happening?"

"Blood," Crowley ground out.

"Blood? My blood?"

"Human," Crowley manged just before the shakes got too violent.

"I have to get a syringe. I'll be right back, okay?"

"D-Don't..." Grimacing Crowley tried his best to finish.

"Don't what?"

"L...L... Lee..." Damn it!

"Don't leave?"

Instead of trying to speak Crowley merely nodded.

"I'll only be gone a second. I promise I'll be right back."

Crowley shook his head. "N-N-N-"

"If you need blood I have to get a syringe."

Crowley just continued to shake his head.

\----------

"Sam?"

"Dean," Sam asked surprised at his brother's sudden presence.

"Go, I'll stay with Crowley til you get back."

Sam stared at Dean skeptically. Before he could answer Dean he felt a tug on his shirt. Sam looked down and saw Crowley, one fist clinging to Sam's shirt, frantically shaking his head. Reaching down he placed a hand on Crowley's shoulder to reassure him. Sam glanced back to Dean.

"You stay, I'll go," Dean told Sam.

Nodding Sam bent to the task of comforting Crowley the best he could.

"Hang in there, he'll be right back. It'll be over soon," he soothed.

\----------

Why am I doing this again, Dean thought as he raced back to Sam's room. Opening the bedroom door he glanced around and realized he didn't know where Sammy had stashed the kit. Damn it! Alright, if I was Sammy where would I stash paraphernalia? Dean began ransacking the room. After several minutes with no luck he pulled out his cell and dialed his brother. Finally Sammy answered.

_"Yeah?"_

"Where are the needles Sammy?"

_"Aren't they on the nightstand?"_

"If they were do you think I'd be calling you?"

_"Shit, let me think."_

"A little faster Sam."

_"I'm trying, I'm trying," Sam muttered. "I got it. In the closet. I hung up the shirt I was wearing, Maybe they're still in the pocket."_

Dean rushed to the closet and inspected the contents.

_"Got it yet?"_

"You have more clothes than any woman I've ever met." Dean pressed the phone between his shoulder and his ear to start checking pockets. "Any idea what the shirt looked like?"

_"Uh, blue plaid."_

Dean stared at the various blue plaid shirts in the closet. "You gotta be kidding me," he muttered under his breath.

_"What?"_

"Nothing." Dean immediately began searching all the shirts. "It's not here."

_"It has to be," Sam insisted._

"Yeah, well, it's not. I don't know what to tell you."

_"Wait, check the closet. Top shelf, right side."_

Reaching up Dean fumbled along the top side of the shelf.

\----------

"Shh, it'll be over soon."

"N-not... st... st...upid... H-h... ates me."

"Shh," Sam soothed. "Dean," Sam asked through the phone.

_"Found 'em. On my way back."_

"Sh-hood... hate... m-m-"

"Shh, no one hates you."

"D-D-D... Squ...irrel."

There was nothing he could say to that, Crowley was right. Dean was definitely **not** fond of the demon.

"Don't talk. I promise, just a little longer."

Dean rushed into the room all but out of breath. Holding out his hand Dean offered one of the needles from the kit. Grabbing the syringe Sam shoved one of his sleeves up and popped his hand against the veins inside his left elbow. When one finally responded up he wasted no time shoving the needle into the vein and drawing blood.

\----------

So cold. The cold was the only thing that came close to touching the pain. Just let me die, Crowley pleaded. Please just kill me now and put me out of this misery. Still shaking violently Crowley barely noticed the prick from the needle. It wasn't until he felt the relief spreading that the worst of the shivers finally subsided.

"Hey!"

Moose?

"Stay with me. I need to know how you're feeling Crowley?"

 _'I just want to be loved.'_ "I just..."

"Shh," Sam whispered. "How are you feeling?"

"Love..."

"Crowley, focus," Sam demanded.

Right, focus. He could do that. If only it weren't so bloody cold in here.

"Crowley!"

"Cold," he murmured snuggling sideways into the warmth next to him.

\----------

"Okay what the hell was that?"

"I don't know, withdrawals?" Sam took a sip of his beer.

Dean stared at his brother incredulously. "Not that part. The, the," Dean pause and waved a hand trying to find an adequate descriptor. "The snuggling."

Sputtering, Sam started to cough as he choked on the beer.

"You heard me," Dean insisted.

"Snuggling?"

"What else would you call it?"

"I wouldn't call it _that_!"

"Dude he was clinging to you more tightly than saran wrap."

"Only because of the shakes," Sam insisted.

Dean shook his head and took a swallow of his own beer. "Okay, so the question is, what are we going to do?"

"What do you mean," Sam asked eyeing him suspiciously.

"Well it's not like you can follow him around donating blood every time he breaks down," Dean said with a shrug.

"So what do you propose?"

"You know what I want to do," Dean told his brother.

"We are not killing him. You said-"

"I know what I said. That still doesn't answer the question, though."

"Damn it Dean, give him a chance. He's ..."

"Different?"

"You know what? He is. So let it go."

"He's a demon Sammy."

"I'm just saying-"

"Moose?"

Crowley. Damn it. "You're being paged," Dean informed his brother.

"Shut up," Sam complained.

"Sam?"

If it had been anyone else Dean might have had sympathy, but Crowley? Dean shook his head. What the hell? How could anyone trust Crowley?

\----------

Gasping for breath Crowley's head shot up and he inspected his surroundings.

"Moose?"

Silence.

"Sam?"

Obviously someone had given him their blood. The familiarity of the feeling inferred that it had been Sam. Why, Crowley wondered. Why would he share something as precious as his blood with someone like me?

"Hey."

Looking up Crowley noted Sam sticking his head around the corner of the door.

"Hey," he answered.

"You doing better," Sam asked stepping into the room.

And just where am I, Crowley wondered. "Yeah." Crowley stretched testing his muscles. "You," he asked.

"I didn't feel bad to start with," Sam answered.

Crowley frowned. "No. I meant, was it you who... donated."

"The blood?"

"Yeah," Crowley clarified.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed.

"Where am I?"

"My room," Sam answered.

"Why," Crowley asked.

Sam shrugged. "Why not?"

"Because," Crowley stated uncomfortably, picking at the bedspread.

"Hey." Sam moved to sit on the bed and Crowley backed away self consciously. "Talk to me, what's up?"

"Nothing," Crowley muttered.

"It's obviously something," Sam observed. "Talk to me. Please?"

"I don't know," Crowley began. "I can't actually put it into words." His head shot up as he heard a small creak from the floorboards.

"Hey."

Crowley pressed his lips together and stared at the bedspread as Dean entered.

"Better," Dean asked.

Not taking his eyes off the bed Crowley nodded.

"Right, so how about we get back to where you're supposed to be?"

"Dean," Sam exclaimed exasperated.

"It's alright," Crowley stated quietly. "I understand how he feels. Honestly? I kind of feel better there."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Sighing heavily Crowley finally met Sam's eyes. "I don't fully trust myself. At least while I'm there I feel..." Crowley shrugged at a complete loss for how to express his feelings.

"Well, we're in agreement then."

"Dean."

"Oh come on Sammy, he wants to go back."

"You don't have to be so..."

"What? Happy about it?"

"Well yeah!"

"Come on Sammy!"

"Damn it Dean!"

As a hand closed around Crowley's wrist he panicked. Trying to blink out he was stunned when he couldn't. Cuffs, he remembered as he was jerked off the bed and onto his feet. Crowley stumbled and tried to regain his footing. Someone else grabbed his other arm and yanked him backward.

"Damn it Sammy!"

"Let go Dean!"

"You let go!"

"Stop," Crowley yelled. "Damn it I can't do this!"

Breathing heavily in the silence that followed Crowley took a few deep breathes to clear his head.

"You can't do what," Dean asked.

"You two," Crowley shot back. "And for your information you brother wouldn't be alive if it weren't for me!"

Dean's fingers dug into Crowley's wrist painfully.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"When that church was crumbling I protected your brother. I covered him and let the falling pieces hit me! And what did I get in return for protecting Sam? You, knocking me unconscious!"

"You were going to kill him!"

Crowley stared at Dean, kill Sam? Really?

"Dean-"

"No," Crowley said cutting off Sam. "If that's what he thinks, fine. Just remember when it's your turn-"

"You'll what? Kill me?"

Crowley shook his head. "Whatever. You think what you want, I'm going back to my prison now if you don't mind."

Jerking his wrist out of Dean's grip and his shoulder out of Sam's Crowley straightened and brushed a hand down his suit. Turning on his heals Crowley stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind himself. Inspecting the hallway he realized he didn't have an idea which direction to go, damn it!

\----------

"Damn it Dean, what the hell?"

Ignoring Sam Dean headed for the door.

"Dean!"

"Not now Sam," Dean shot back grabbing the door and yanking it open.

"Yes now." Sam grabbed Dean's shoulder and jerked he backward. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? You're the one getting buddy-buddy with a demon Sam! I can't believe you're seriously buying this act!"

"I don't believe it is an act."

"I'm only going to spell this out for you one more time. Crowley's a demon. Demons. Lie. Understand? I know you want to believe he had... a change of heart or whatever you want to call it but he's just a demon. You can't trust him Sammy!"

"Until he does some thing to prove different I'm going to believe he has changed!"

"Why? Can you at least answer that question?"

"Because he is a demon. How many people do you think have been willing to give Crowley a second chance?"

"I think it'd be hard to give someone a second chance when your _dead_."

"All I'm saying is everyone makes mistakes-"

"Mistakes?"

"Yes, mistakes. What if all it takes is one person giving him a second chance?"

"I'm not listening to this."

"I never gave up on you," Sam said quietly.

"Are you seriously comparing me to _Crowley_?"

"You two aren't that different actually."

"Excuse you? No, you know what? I don't want to hear it. I'm done, I'm just done."

Turning to leave Dean stormed out the door and ran straight into Crowley. Cursing shoved the demon out his way and kept walking.

\----------

Crowley stared as Dean walked down the hallway. As much as he wanted to be angry at Dean he couldn't. He actually agreed with what Dean was saying. Hell, he had actually tried to tell Sam the same thing. Sam hadn't listened to him anymore than it seems he listened to Dean.

"Crowley?"

Taking a deep breath Crowley slowly released it and turned to face Sam.

"How much of that did you..."

"Hear?"

"Yeah."

Crowley bit his lip.

"So, all of it?"

"Look Sam, he's right. If there's anyone that knows anything about demons it's me."

"I am not giving up on you."

"Sam," Crowley huffed exasperated.

"No. You don't get out of this that easy. I'm going to prove to you you're worth a second chance if I have to drag you kicking and screaming."

Staring at Sam Crowley almost couldn't speak. "Why," he whispered.

"Because I believe in you. I told you, being human is about having faith."

"Why me? I don't deserve it."

"Everyone deserves a second chance."

"But I've done..."

"I know."

"No, I mean..." Damn it. Why was this so hard?

"I know."

"I don't understand Moose." Crowley winced at the nickname. "I mean Sam."

Sam actually smiled. "I know."

"Thank you," Crowley whispered.

"Anytime."

\----------

Okay so basically Sammy wasn't understanding. What the fuck did he have do to make his brother understand demons were bad? Why the hell did Sammy trust Crowley so much? Fuck, all he wanted to do was protect his brother. Damn Crowley. A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts.

"Yeah," he called out to Sam.

The door opened and Crowley walked into the room.

"Uh, yeah. Don't speak. I just wanted to say you're right. Sam shouldn't trust me. I'm willing to do what it takes to make him not trust me if I knew what that was. You're right, of course, he shouldn't trust a demon. I just don't know how to make him not trust me. Well not without doing some thing I don't want to do." Crowley frowned.

"Why are you doing this?

Crowley stared at him confused.

"Oh please. Don't give me that innocent look. What's your deal, Crowley?"

"I want to protect Sam."

"You what?"

"I want to protect Sam. You want to protect Sam. I don't see a conflict here."

"Why?"

Crowley frowned. "Despite what you might think Sam's the only person who's ever given me a second chance. I owe him."

"You don't deserve a second chance."

"I know that."

Dean crossed his arms and stared at the demon.

"Deserved or not he's not going to let this go. Not unless I do something..." He cleared his throat. "Something I'm not going to do. And you should know I wouldn't hurt him, ever."

"I'm supposed to believe that?"

Shrugging Crowley started to walk around the room inspecting things. "I wouldn't believe me."

"Stop."

Crowley finished taking his step and stopped moving.

"Let's say I believe you."

Crowley raised an eyebrow and remained silent.

"How could I know you wouldn't try to kill me?"

"You don't. I mean that's the point right? You don't trust me and I agree you shouldn't. The problem is how do we get Sam to see that?"

"Why do you want him to not trust you?"

"I wouldn't do anything to hurt Sam. I know you don't have a reason to believe me and every reason to doubt me but it's true." Crowley paused briefly. "For now."

"For now?"

"What happens if the blood wears off and I don't get more? We need to be realistic here. It's not like there's a charity set up to give blood to addicted demons and Sam can't donate forever. Besides if word gets out that I'm off my game you don't have any idea of the amount of other demons that would try to kill me. If anyone got in the way they'd be more than willing to kill that person as well. The longer I'm around Sam the more he's in danger."

"So why shouldn't I kill you?"

Crowley frowned and remained silent for a minute.

"Actually you probably should," Crowley finally answered.

"What?"

"I mean, I don't want you to, but maybe it's for the best?"

"What's your game Crowley?"

"No game. I told you I want to protect Sam."

"Why?"

"You're his brother, you've known him your whole life and you still don't understand him do you? Sam wants to see the good. I, have no good left. The world needs conflict. It needs something to fight against. Something to unite against. That would be me. But it also needs the good. That's where Sam comes in."

"And me?"

"You're the realist. You keep everyone honest."

"So where does that leave us?"

"Assuming you value Sam's opinion of you and you're not going to kill me?"

"Yeah, assuming that."

Crowley shrugged. "Figuring out how to get Sam to give up on me."

\----------Early the next morning----------

Shaking his head Dean tried not to roll his eyes. Two brothers who's job it was to find and kill all things evil watching the King of Hell watching ducks. This seriously had to be some kind of fucked up dream. What the absolute fuck? His cell phone ringing broke into his thoughts. Grabbing his cell he checked the caller I.D. Cass?

"Hey what's up," he asked as he hit talk.

_"I made it to town. Can one of you come pick me up?"_

"About that. We have a complication."

_"What kind of complication?"_

"Sammy seems to have made it his life's goal to rehabilitate the King of Hell."

_"Wait, what's Crowley doing with you?"_

"Currently? Watching ducks."

_"What?"_

"You heard me. Watching ducks."

_"Is that some kind of metaphor for some thing else?"_

"It's a metaphor for Crowley's standing on a bridge watching ducks. Look, tell me where you are and one of us will come get you."

_"I just passed the city limit sign. I'm on foot for now so it'll be a while before I get to a business."_

"Keep walking, we'll pick you up as soon as possible."

\----------

"So how are you doing?"

Crowley shrugged without responding.

"Crowley?"

"Just not talkative right now."

"Understandable. So, ducks?"

"It's not the ducks."

"Okay. Care to elaborate?"

"Not really."

"Okay."

Shaking his head Crowley glanced over to Sam. "It's life."

"Life?"

Crowley shook his head and turned back to the river beneath them. As early as it was there were no other people, which he supposed had been the point. He had been honest when he told Sam it wasn't specifically about the ducks, it was about life. They had started on the far side of the bridge. Sitting on a bench staring at the unused playground equipment until Crowley couldn't stand it anymore. He couldn't put a finger on why the sight troubled him in the beginning. Standing Crowley took off walking with the brothers following close behind. As a duck flew past Crowley stopped to watch it land below them. They had been standing on the bridge ever since. Crowley had since come to realize why the empty playground troubled him. It was devoid of life. Empty. Barren. Waiting.

"Trip's over."

Crowley felt his heart sink a little. Truthfully he had known this wouldn't last. With a sigh he turned and waited for the brothers to start back to the car.

"What's up," Sam asked.

"Time to go, we have a pickup to make."

"Cass?"

"Bingo."

Crowley froze, the angel? To the best of his knowledge Castiel hated him. Maybe he could find a way to use this to his advantage. Maybe with Castiel backing Dean...

"Move it or lose it Crowley," Dean ordered.


	3. Chapter 3

On the way to pick up Castiel Crowley stared out the window as the landscape rolled past. An angel, a demon and two hunters in a car, it sounded like the start of a bad joke and Crowley couldn't help smiling slightly at the thought. As he watched the scenery he was grateful Sam had insisted that they didn't have to blindfold him on their way to get the angel. Shifting his eyes slightly he silently watched Sam.

No one in his life had willingly gone out of their way to help him anywhere close to as much as Sam had so far. Sam had every right to hate him but didn't. From the beginning Crowley had doubted the sincerity. He had spent hours racking his brain for the end game. The problem was after he agreed to make the list there really wasn't much use in Sam continuing to be nice. There was nothing else to gain. It was difficult to believe Sam would do so much for him for no reason at all but that was the only answer left.

When they pulled into the gas station Crowley inspected the people. He needed to learn more about what it was like to be human. There were no memories from his prior life he wanted to draw from so instead he watched the other people interact. He had inspected people before but that was usually to get the upper hand in some deal or another. This was different somehow.

\---------

Sam and Dean entered and made their way over to Cass.

"Hey Cass, how's it been," Dean asked.

"It could have been worse."

"Anything new on the angel front?"

"I spent most of my time trying to get here. I didn't have time to gather much intel, most of what I do have isn't good. I suggest we wait until we get back to discuss everything."

"Good plan," Sam agreed. "I'll meet you two back at the car."

"Yeah, we'll catch up. And make sure you know who didn't do anything to mess up my car."

Rolling his eyes Sam exited the store. As he slammed the car door shut Sam turned and looked back to Crowley. Continuing to stare out of the window Crowley didn't even acknowledge Sam's presence.

"See anything interesting?"

\---------

Crowley resisted the urge to growl at Sam. In a very real sense it was Sam's fault he was having these feelings. Crowley continued to watch the mother and son. The child had to be about seven and the family was obviously very happy. Crowley glared at the family as memories of his own past life surfaced.

Dean and Castiel finally made their way to the car. As the door shut Crowley turned to the angel. Castiel pointedly ignored Crowley and Crowley rolled his eyes.

"Alright Sammy, you ready?"

"Not really but I understand the need for it." Sam looked back over the seat holding the blindfold. "You ready for this?"

"Oh just give it to me," Crowley barked yanking the blindfold out of Sam's hands. "I can do it myself." Angrily he covered his eyes and tied the blindfold. Crossing his arms he sat back and waited. "Well?"

There was a shuffling noise and Crowley felt someone's hands checking the blindfold. Rolling his eyes Crowley huffed and waited for them to be satisfied the blindfold was really secured. Like he wanted to see anyone else right now?

.

When the blindfold was removed Crowley looked around and found them in the 'dining area' of the bunker. Crossing his arms Crowley leaned back against the table and waited. Everyone in the room looked at everyone else each seemed to be waiting for someone else to speak first. Feeling the beginnings of the withdrawals Crowley did his best to hide the symptoms.

"Yes, well," Castiel began. "I was wondering, can I stay here for a few days. Just until I can find a job."

"And why do you need a job," Crowley inquired.

The discomfort in the room deepened.

"None of your business," Castiel snapped.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Okay, so-"

"So you should be getting back to your 'prison' right about now," Dean interrupted.

"By all means," Crowley said holding his hands out. "Lead the way."

"I'll take him," Sam said as Dean started forward.

"My hero," Crowley muttered.

As Sam grabbed him by the upper arm Crowley fought the urge to pull away. Fuck him. Sam was one of those people that showed what was good in the universe. He shouldn't be wasting his time on me, Crowley thought. Other people deserve this, not me. I've never been about anything more than survival.

When they entered the dungeon Crowley did pull his arm out of Sam's grip.

"I think I've got it from here." A shiver from the blood withdrawals ran through him and Crowley tried to suppress it. He looked up and glared at Sam.

"You okay?"

"Fine," Crowley gritted out. He had to get Sam to leave. Now.

"You don't sound fine."

"Whatever, just leave."

\---------

"Are you sure we should be doing this," Cass asked.

"You trust Crowley," Dean asked back.

"You know I don't, but Sam can handle this."

"Just shush and-"

"You need blood," Sam said just barely loud enough for them to over hear.

"Don't want it."

"Wanted or not you need it."

"I don't need anything from you!"

"Crowley,-"

"Damn it Sam, you don't get it! Being a demon is only part of the problem. You can't trust me. Even as a human my only goal has ever been survival; that's it. No frills, no lace trim. No caring about the cost. I will do anything to survive! Don't you get it? Even human I'm not the one you save, I'm what you destroy. I'm what you destroy to save others!"

"I am not giving up on you. You have to know that."

"Get out."

"What?"

"Leave. Just... get out."

"Crowley-"

"Get out Sam Winchester before you give me another reason to despise humanity. Another reason to despise you! Just get out!"

"Dean," Cass whispered.

"Hush Cass. Come on," Dean said grabbing Cass' arm.

The pair made their way back upstairs and to the living room.

"What does he mean Crowley needs blood?"

"Ever since the trial Crowley needs blood to stay 'human'."

"So, what, he's not a demon anymore?"

"Oh he's still a demon, mostly."

"Dean, about what Crowley was saying..."

"No."

"I think," Cass began.

He stopped short when Sam stormed into the room. Both turned and watched as Sam paced back and forth. Growling Sam stopped near a bookshelf and shoved the books off one of the shelves onto the floor.

"Damn him!"

"Tell us how you really feel," Dean piped up leaning back against the nearest chair and crossing his arms.

"I'm done. I'm just... I'm done with everything. Done with this whole mess, done with trying, done the blood, done with him."

Dean uncrossed his arms and shoved himself off the chair. "What do you mean you're done?"

"I mean I'm done Dean. You were right."

"You can't be serious."

"I'm completely serious."

"After arguing with me about killing him all this time you're suddenly going to give up on him? And for what, one temper tantrum? Come on Sam, you said it yourself, this is new to him. You can't expect there won't be a little resistance some times."

"Resistance? You should have heard what he said."

"I did hear."

"So, what, you're spying on me now? No, you know what, don't answer that. I'll be in my room. If Crowley needs anything, you get it. I'm done."

"Damn it!" Turning to Cass Dean shook his head. "We need to go back and check on Crowley."

Cass cocked his head and looked at Dean inquisitively.

"Crowley wasn't looking too good when we got back. If Sammy didn't give him any blood then we're going to have a problem pretty soon."

\---------

And right on cue, Crowley thought as the shakes started. Grimacing against the pain Crowley wrapped his arms around himself. Bloody hell, this sucked and it was only going to get worse. This time there was no Sam to rescue him from this torture. What the hell had he been thinking earlier? He knew what he had been thinking. Protect Sam. Protect the one person he ever cared about in his long miserable life.

"Crowley?"

Looking up he noted Dean in the doorway and the angel standing right behind Dean. Bloody hell, just what he didn't need right now.

"I take it Sam left before giving you any blood."

"W-What gave it a-a-away?"

Dean shook his head and walked back into the connecting room. Castiel continued to stare at him and Crowley growled at the angel. "F-F-uck o-off."

Dean walked back into the room carrying a syringe. Another wave of intense pain hit and Crowley's vision dimmed. Cold, he was so cold. Why did he run off the one person that could take all of this away? What the hell had he been thinking?

"P-pro... tec...t, S-Sam," Crowley stammered. That was why. He needed to protect Sam, even from himself. _Hope it was worth it._ No, don't let the voice come back, not now. He couldn't deal with that on top of everything else. When he felt his consciousness slipping away he embraced the blackness that engulfed him.

\---------

"He's still shivering," Cass noted.

"Yeah, he's going to be like that for a while," Dean informed Cass.

"Should we get him some thing? Like a blanket?"

"Maybe. Last time we carried him to Sammy's room and stuck him in the bed."

"You put Crowley in Sam's bed?"

"Sam's idea, not mine. I was all for leaving him down here. Sam didn't want to leave him alone and Crowley wasn't letting go of Sam at the time. Rather than Sam sitting on table for who knows how long we took him to Sam's room."

"Should we take him there now?"

"That'd go over swell. I can see it now, 'Hey Sam, I know you're angry with Crowley right now but here he is. Can he sleep in your bed now?'"

"So what do we do?"

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought about it. "Can you flash us up to my room?"

Cass raised an eyebrow. Finally he walked over and touched Crowley's shoulder lightly. Dean waited but nothing happened.

"Something's blocking me from teleporting us," Cass stated.

"It's got to be the cuffs, that's the only thing that makes sense. He can't use supernatural stuff while he has them on and they can't be removed by anything except the key. Okay so we do this the hard way."

Dean walked over and grabbed one of Crowley's arms. Instantly Crowley snuggled into Dean's side.

"Cold," the demon muttered.

"Yeah yeah," Dean responded rolling his eyes. "Okay Cass you get the other side."

\---------

"Mmm." So warm. Crowley snuggled closer to the warmth.

"Hey, watch it."

Dean? Crowley's eyes shot open and he looked in the direction of the voice. Yep, Dean. Glancing down Crowley noticed he had one arm over the elder Winchester and one hand locked tightly on Dean's forearm. Jerking backward Crowley fell off the bed. What in the fuck was Dean doing here?

"You okay down there?"

Dean's head leaned over the side of the bed and Crowley scrambled to his feet.

"What the fuck!"

"Wasn't my idea for you to get all cozy with me. You just wouldn't let go and it was easier."

The door opened and Castiel entered. Things just kept getting worse and worse.

"Get a leash for your boyfriend," Crowley snapped at the angel. Castiel merely tilted his head and continued to stare. Stupid angel!

"Well now that you're awake, we need to talk."

"I agree. What in the name of hell just happened? Wait, don't tell me. I died and I'm in hell."

"Nope, didn't die and not in hell. Just my room," Dean informed him.

"Why?"

"Cause you pissed off Sammy so we couldn't take you to his room."

Through the familiar feeling of human blood he felt something darker. Something different. "You," Crowley accused. "You gave me your blood."

Dean shrugged.

"Damn it Dean!"

"Once again, not my idea. You pissed off Sammy."

"I did it on purpose you moron! I didn't want this anymore!"

"What, being human?"

"Yes!"

Dean shrugged again. "Deal with it."

"Whatever, I'm going back to _my room_."

Castiel moved to block the door and Dean stood up off the bed.

"Nope. Like I said, we need to talk," Dean said walking around until he was standing next to Castiel.

"I'm not really in a talkative mood. Get out of the way."

"Not happening Crowley."

"Fine. Start talking so we can get this over with."

"What did you need to protect Sam from?"

Crowley flinched. No, he couldn't discuss Sam. Not with Dean and especially not with the angel present. There was no way he was revealing his feelings for Sam to anyone, especially not Sam's brother and Castiel.

"Answer me Crowley. What are you protecting him from?"

Unwilling to be weak Crowley shoved his feelings down and straightened. "I would think that your brother can protect himself just fine."

"We're not talking about Sammy's abilities. We're talking about you. What did you mean when you said you needed to protect him?"

"I never said that."

"You talk in your sleep."

"Whatever." Crowley crossed his arms and glared at Dean.

"I know what you were doing."

"Good. Then there's no reason to continue this little party any longer."

"You want to shove Sam so far away he will finally give up on you. Shove him away so he won't inject you anymore. That way you don't have to be human, don't have to feel anymore, don't have to deal with pesky human emotions. But you see, I think there's more to it than just not wanting to be human any more."

"Good for you. Can I leave now?"

"Not on your life."

"What about on your life?"

Castiel took a step forward and Dean held out an arm stopping the angel.

"There's more to it than just not wanting to be human anymore. You're doing this for another reason. Why Crowley?"

"I don't need another reason. Being human is over-rated. I just want to get back to being myself."

"And that involves protecting Sam?"

Crowley growled.

Dean's expression shifted to confusion then finally shock. "Son of a bitch."

"What," Crowley huffed exasperated.

"It's Sam."

At the mention of Sam's name Crowley glared at Dean.

"You like him? Like... Like... that?"

Angrily Crowley turned his back to Dean and scowled. Dean grabbed Crowley by the shoulder and spun him around.

"Seriously?"

"Get off me," Crowley hissed shoving Dean's hand off of his shoulder.

"Sammy?"

"Shut it."

"Well if that isn't fucked up." Realization dawned on Dean's face. "You want to protect him from you?"

"Shut. Up."

"Holy shit."

"Wait. Are you saying he likes Sam like... as a partner," Castiel asked.

"You shut your mouth too," Crowley snapped.

"Just... holy shit."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "You've already said that."

"Just how do you think that's going to work," Dean asked.

"Obviously I don't, jackass. Can we please just let this go now?"

"Holy-"

"Yes, holy shit. As I've already pointed out, you've just said that; three times now."

"Wow. Okay so, where do we go from here?"

"We don't go anywhere. You stay here and I go back to my 'room'."

"Oh no you don't. We're not leaving here until we get this sorted out."

"For fuck's sake. There's nothing to sort out! I'm a demon, he's a hunter! I'm the bloody King of Hell and he's a Winchester!"

"Why?"

"Matter of birth I'd assume," Crowley snapped.

"Not that. Why Sam?"

"Are serious?"

"Yes."

"Have you always been this dense?"

"Dean," Castiel interrupted. "Sam is coming."

"Shit," Dean cursed.

The door to Dean's room opened and Sam stood in the doorway.

Crowley froze and tried his best to be invisible.

"So, whatever I decide you do the opposite of," Sam asked crossing his arms.

"You know what it's like when he doesn't get blood Sam," Dean reminded his brother.

"He's the one that didn't want it. What do you care anyway? Last I heard you were ready to gank him."

"Come on Sam, this isn't you."

"And defending a demon is you being you?"

"I'm not defending him," Dean shot back. "I'm helping you live with yourself. You know if you keep this up it's going to eat at you later. It's just who you are. If anyone knows you it's me, Sammy."

"Whatever."

"Sam, there is some thing you should know," Castiel stated.

Crowley's heart sped up as he fought against the urge to flee. Damn angel!

"He only said those things to get you to give up on him," Dean interrupted. "He didn't want to deal with the human crap anymore. He's trying to get you to give up so he can just go back to being full demon again."

Crowley's brow furrowed as he looked to Dean. Was Dean covering for him? Shifting his eyes sideways Crowley looked over to Sam. Sam seemed to be mulling over what Dean had said. Crowley shifted his eyes again until he was staring at the floor and waited.

"So, you got scared," Sam finally asked.

Crowley bit his lip.

"Crowley," Sam said impatiently.

"Yeah," Crowley whispered. "Sorry."

"You should also be aware he-," Castiel started.

"He's sorry for what he said," Dean said interrupting Castiel once more.

Thank you, Crowley thought, relieved Dean had cut off the angel yet again. Stupid freaking angel. Crowley heard Sam enter the room and bit into his bottom lip again. Sam's feet came into view as Crowley continued to stare at the floor.

"So," Sam started then trailed off.

"So I suggest we return Crowley to the dungeon and get started making plans to kill Abaddon," Dean announced.

\---------

Dean led Crowley to the dungeon with Castiel following. Sam remained upstairs, still refusing to have anything to do with Crowley. He was really going to have to do some thing about that. When he told Sam that this was going to eat at him later it was the truth. That was just how Sam's mind worked. First things first. He had to get Crowley situated and have a talk with Cass. As they moved to the table Crowley's stomach grumbled. Dean frowned at the noise and let go of Crowley's arm.

"I thought you didn't get hungry."

"I don't. Haven't. Whatever."

"Sounds like you are now," Dean noted.

"If I am it's probably your fault."

"My fault?"

"I never got hungry with Sam's blood."

"So you're saying this is because of my blood?"

Crowley sighed and finally sat down. "Your blood is effecting me differently than Sam's blood. Apparently I recieve certain 'traits' from my donors."

"What did you receive from Sam?"

Crowley crossed his arms and refused to answer.

"I can outlast you Crowley."

"You know what I got from Sam's blood."

"I know it turned you human. Ish."

Crowley rolled his eyes. Uncrossing his arms Crowley looked down at the table and began picking at the wood. "It's difficult to put into words," he said quietly. "I started seeing how he sees the world. Not completely, exactly, but it was easier to see what you would call 'the good qualities'. I started wanting to see them. It's part of the reason I wanted him to give up on me."

"And you get hungry because of my blood?"

Crowley stopped picking at the table and looked up at Dean. "I got more than your desire for food."

"Like?"

"Like your view of the world."

Dean winced. The last thing they needed was a more jaded version of Crowley. If they couldn't get Sam to start donating again soon they were going to have issues. Note to self, find a new secondary donor.

"What if we gave you some of Cass' blood?"

"Are you out of your mind? You want to put angel blood in a demon? Are you trying to kill me?"

"I don't think that would be a good idea either," Cass agreed. "Even given the current circumstances it would probably still be bad."

"Current circumstances," Crowley asked.

"Not important right now. I'll be back with some thing to eat." With a nod to Cass Dean left the room and shut the door between the two rooms. Putting some distance between them and the dungeon Dean stopped near the stairs.

"About Crowley's feelings for Sam."

"What about them," Cass asked.

"I don't think it's a good idea to mention anything about it just yet."

"Why not?"

"Crowley hasn't been human for more than a week. He may be confusing certain feelings or he might really like Sam that way. Either way I'm not sure it would be good to tell Sam about it right now. Understand?"

"I think so. I trust your judgement in this. You're more experienced at being human than me."

Dean snorted. "If that isn't messed up I don't know what is. An angel and a half-human demon trying to learn to be human and the only role models they have are two messed up hunters."

.

Dean was almost done cooking by the time Sam made an appearance. Ignoring his brother for the moment Dean put the dishes in the sink to be washed later. Opening the fridge he snagged two bottles of water and a beer. Staring at the beer Dean finally replaced it and grabbed another water. Shutting the fridge he turned and toss one of the waters to Cass.

"Made an extra burger for you if you're hungry," he informed his brother. Dean didn't bother to wait for a response. Grabbing two of the four plates off the table Dean made his way out of the kitchen and toward the dungeon. Unsurprisingly Sammy followed.

"Who's the extra plate for," Sam asked.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Crowley."

"You made Crowley a plate of food?"

Dean stopped and turned to face his brother. "Okay, A, why do you care? I thought you were done with Crowley. B, you said if he needed anything I had to get it for him. C, I made you a plate too and it's getting cold. Stop pestering me. Go eat your food and let me do your job."

"Fine," Sam exclaimed rolling his eyes.

Dean retaliated by rolling his eyes back. "Fine."

Turning Dean began his trek again. The words wouldn't hit Sammy immediately but they would sink in eventually. Hopefully he could get through to his brother sooner rather than later. Eventually Sammy would regret his current attitude. Whether or not it would be too late to do anything about it was still in question.

"Food's here," Dean announced as he entered the dungeon.

Frowning Dean studied Crowley. One arm lay stretched straight forward and one cocked at a ninety degree angle. Crowley's forehead lay pressed into the crook of the bent arm and the demon was snoring softly. Snoring? Did he let Crowley sleep or wake him up so Crowley could eat? Dean set the plate down and sat in the one other chair at the table watching Crowley.

At first Crowley seemed to be sleeping peacefully. It wasn't until a second glance that Dean noticed the tension in Crowley's shoulders and the small twitches. Looking closer he noted Crowley's hands clenched into fists and the small grimace. Nightmare, Dean finally decided. What could give a demon nightmares? After watching as much as he could stand Dean reached over and shook Crowley's shoulder.

\---------

"Who the the hell does he think he is," Sam muttered re-entering the kitchen. "Dean was the one that wanted to kill Crowley in the first place. He should be happy I'm done with this. And now he's cooking for him?"

"In all fairness you did tell him you were done and he had to take care of Crowley."

Sam jumped at the sound of Cass' voice. He had forgotten about the angel. "You stay out of this," Sam grumbled.

Shrugging Cass returned to eating his burger. Sam stared at his own plate. Despite everything Dean had made sure to make some thing for him as well. Ever since they had been children Dean had been taking care of him.

_"I'm helping you live with yourself... If anyone knows you it's me, Sammy."_

Maybe Dean did have a point. Dean was probably the one person that knew him better than he knew himself. It was just getting so hard to continue trying to help Crowley when the demon wouldn't even meet him half-way.

_"You know if you keep this up it's going to eat at you later."_

Sighing, Sam finally sat down. As angry as he was right now, Dean was right. Sam would regret giving up later. The realization didn't help Sam feel any better. Between the realization and the burger in front of him Sam actually felt worse.

"Are you going to eat that?"

Sam was brought back to reality by Cass' question. Staring at his burger he realized he wasn't really all that hungry. He shoved the plate toward the angel. "You can have it."

\---------

As his head banged painfully against some thing Crowley scooted backward frantically searching the room. When his eyes fell on Dean some of the panic finally subsided. Dean, the bunker, safe, his mind told him. Safe. Groaning Crowley reached up and rubbed the back of his head.

"You okay?"

"Fantastic," Crowley muttered.

"Bad dream?"

Crowley stopped rubbing at his head and let his hand slide down to the floor. Eyeing Dean he glared for a moment before shoving himself off the floor. Running his hands down his suit he frowned as he inspected it. At this point the suit was probably not even salvageable anymore. Damned Winchesters.

"Food's getting cold."

For a brief moment his mind flashed back to when Sam uttered the same words previously. If Dean was bringing him food had he succeeded in driving off Sam? Even though that had been his goal the thought of Sam hating him hurt. Shaking his head to clear it Crowley turned and found the chair he had been sitting in laying on its back. Walking over he righted the chair and sat down. Tilting his head slightly he inspected the burger before looking to Dean and raising an eyebrow.

"It's not poisoned," Dean informed him.

"I've never eaten a burger."

"Ever?"

"When I was human burgers weren't really a relevant food. After I became a demon?" Crowley shrugged. "I didn't have to eat so when I did eat I could afford to be choosy. Dean?"

"Hm," Dean asked taking a bite of his own burger.

"About Sam."

Chewing slowly Dean finally swallowed. "What about him?"

"Never mind."

"Crowley," Dean said flatly.

"Food's getting cold," Crowley reminded Dean.

Picking up the burger he tried a bite. Given its reputation as one of the most commonly sold items at fast food chains Crowley didn't expect much. He was surprised to find it was better than he had expected. Either burgers had gotten a bad rap or Dean's were just that much better than most. He would have to do research.

"So what about Sammy," Dean asked breaking into his reverie.

Crowley took a second bite and chewed slowly. Honestly he wasn't sure what he had been trying to ask. There was so much he wanted to know and he didn't have a clue where to start or how to put any of it into words. Swallowing he finally put the burger down.

"I'm not sure," he admitted.

"You know he's not into guys like that?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Even if he was, you seriously believe that I think we would end up together?"

"Look, what I meant was-"

"I know what you meant. Just... Just stop. You think I don't know what you're thinking? Poor confused Crowley. He doesn't know what he's feeling. Yada yada yada. Just stop. I don't need your sympathy."

"You know what? I couldn't care less whether or not you live or die. What I do care about is Sam. If you really cared about him you might stop to think about what this attitude is doing to him." Standing, Dean turned and stormed out of the room without another word.

Staring at the burger Crowley's stomach growled once again. He didn't feel like eating anymore but his stomach seemed to disagree. Being human really sucked. _Way to go. You managed to alienate both of them._ "Shut up," Crowley muttered grabbing his head with both hands. "Just shut up."

\---------

Dean stared at the door skeptically when he heard the knock. Logically he knew it probably wasn't Crowley. The demon should still down in the dungeon. So Sam or Cass? He sighed, sat up and leaned back against the headboard. "Come in," he called out. When the door opened Sam walked in and close the door.

"Hey," Sam said awkwardly.

"Hey," Dean answered.

"So, how's Crowley?"

"Honestly?" Dean shrugged. "Not a clue."

"You just visited him Dean."

"I did. And you know what I learned? Different people's blood has different effects on him Sammy."

"What?"

"He picks up various aspects from the blood he gets. That's why he didn't want any more of your blood. When he gets your blood he notices 'the good' in the world."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"It is when you consider the things he's done. C'mon Sammy think about it. He's been a demon for like forever. All the things he's done? How do you think that makes him feel when he's got your blood coursing through his veins?"

Sammy grimaced at the thought.

"The problem is," Dean continued. "We don't exactly have anyone else who can donate to the cause."

"There's you," Sam suggested.

"Where do you think he got the last injection of blood from? The problem with that is he starts picking up on my qualities."

"And?"

"C'mon Sam, you really think Crowley seeing things with my views on life is a good thing?"

"Better than him hating himself."

"Oh right, it's infinitely better he hate everyone else?"

Sam grimaced again. "Cass?"

"Both Crowley and Cass seem adamant that injecting a demon with angel blood is a bad idea."

"But Cass is technically human right now."

"And Cass still thinks it would be a bad idea."

Both remained silent for a time.

"Kevin," Sam finally suggested.

Dean opened his mouth to respond and promptly shut it. He had forgotten about Kevin. It might be worthwhile to try. Kevin was technically human but he was also a prophet. Would that effect anything? It was an idea at least.

"Good thinking Sammy."

"I wish you'd stop calling me that."

"I know." Dean smiled. "How's Kevin doing with the angel tablet?"

"Not a clue," Sam answered frowning. "I guess we should check in with him."

"You haven't checked in with Kevin lately?"

"I've been busy with Crowley."

"Not lately you haven't," Dean muttered.

Sighing Sam sat down on the bed. "About that. You were right."

"About?"

"I got fed up with the attitude. I just wanted him to meet me part way. You were right though. If I give up I'll regret it later."

Dean struggled not to frown at that revelation. True he was happy he wouldn't have to deal with Crowley any more than necessary but he still wanted to knife the bastard. They had simply come full circle back to their initial problem. "So you'll donate for now when he needs it?"

Running a hand through his hair Sam turned to stare at the door.

"Oh come on Sammy."

"I just wish I knew if it was making any difference," Sam said turning back to face Dean. "I mean, what if it's not making a difference anymore? What if he's just biding his time until he can escape or kill us or whatever?"

"Damn it Sammy, this is your job! I'm the one that doubts everything. You're the one that's supposed to have the unwavering faith." 'Sam wants to see the good,' ran through his mind in an all too familiar voice. Groaning Dean rubbed a hand over his face.

"Why? Why don't I get to doubt? Why is that I have to have faith all the time?"

"Because that's who you are!"

"News flash Dean, you're not the only one that gets to have doubts."

"Yeah, but I'm the one that acts on them. You're the one that does the right thing despite doubting. It's why we work so well as a team Sammy."

"Maybe I don't want to be the one that has to have faith all the time anymore!"

When did everything become this complicated, Dean wondered. Everything used to be so simple, find whatever the big bad was and gank it. Whatever happened to the good old days? Dean scrubbed a hand over his face again.

"So is that a no, you won't donate?"

Sam hesitated. "I don't know," he said finally. "I just wish everything wasn't so complicated."

"We'll talk to Kevin about donating but until then we kind of need you to help out."

"I know." Sam ran a hand through his hair.

\---------

"I should kill you now."

Crowley's head jerk upward to face the angel.

"You don't love anyone but yourself," Castiel continued. "You wouldn't know how."

"Castiel," Crowley greeted the angel. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Cut the act Crowley. What do you really want?"

Sam, Crowley's mind answered instantly. The name was on his lips almost before he could stop himself. Crowley pressed his lips together briefly to keep from actually speaking the name aloud.

"Jealous are we," Crowley asked suggestively.

"Hardly. The truth Crowley, what's your game?"

"Maybe I just want to use the Winchesters to get close to you," Crowley replied with a wink.

Stalking forward Castiel slammed his hands down on the table. "You don't love Sam. You're a demon, demons can't love anyone but themselves."

"Oh right, I forget, you're such an expert on being a demon," Crowley snarled.

"I was killing demons before you were ever born," Castiel snapped back.

Crowley pretended to yawn and leaned back in the chair. It might save them all a lot of trouble if he could get Castiel to kill him. On the other hand death was so permanent. Did he really want to die? He was so used to 'feeling' for what was right lately it took him by surprise when he didn't immediately feel the familiarity of Sam's blood coursing through him. Dean, Crowley remembered belatedly. Shoving the anger back he pretended to yawn once more and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You wouldn't kill me without Dean's consent and we both know it."

"You don't truly love Sam and we both know it," Castiel retorted.

Crowley fought back the urge to strangle the angel. Castiel had no right to tell him what he did or didn't feel for Sam. Did Dean really have to use his own blood? It was hard enough to deal with his feelings when it was Sam's blood. With Dean's it was almost impossible. Was this how Dean felt all the time?

"Why don't you scurry back upstairs to your boyfriend before he starts missing you," Crowley advised the angel.

"Not until you tell me what you really want with Sam," Castiel shot back.

The urge to throttle the angel increased. Castiel is Sam's friend, Crowley told himself. Sam wouldn't appreciate me attacking his friends. The words did little to alleviate the anger running through him. Stupid Dean.

"I'm waiting," Castiel pressed.

And you're going to keep waiting mate, Crowley thought. "Maybe I just like the company? It can get down right boring down here sometimes."

Castiel cocked his head as he studied him. "You're lying," Castiel answered sounding unsure. "Mostly."

Crowley pretended to take offense to the statement. "Moi? I never lie. I might stretch the truth some times, but lying? Never."

Castiel moved before Crowley had a chance to react. In an instant the both of them were on the floor, Cass laying over Crowley's chest. Crowley's arms pinned between the two of them. With the cuffs on it was impossible to pull his arms free. Roughly Castiel's hands gripped the sides of Crowley's face and the angel's eye bore into him. Before he knew what was happening he could feel Castiel's presence, searching, prying.

Panicking Crowley tried to blink away only to remember he why he couldn't. Right, the cuffs. Desperately he tried to force his eyes closed. No matter how hard he strained his eyes refused to close. Suddenly Castiel stood and backed away. Crowley's eyes slammed shut. Gritting his teeth Crowley cursed the angel.

"No," Castiel whispered.

"What's the matter? Didn't like what you saw," Crowley growled. "Maybe you shouldn't poke around in other people's heads without their permission." Lucifer only knew how much the angel had seen. Scowling Crowley forced himself to open his eyes. Standing he made a show of brushing off his suit and ignoring Castiel.

"You really do care for him?"

"You breathe one word of this to Sam and I'll kill you myself," Crowley threatened.

"Why? I mean, I don't understand how it happened but why would you not want him to know how you feel?"

"None of your business," Crowley snapped. "Now if you'll excuse me I have better things to do than argue with a socially stunted angel."

"Like what?"

"Like finishing the list. If you really wanted to be useful you'd get me some paper."

Castiel cocked his head and stared. Unable to stand the angel's gaze Crowley used the excuse of righting his chair to break eye contact with Castiel. Stupid angel. What right did he have to pry into things that weren't any of his business?

"You should tell him," Castiel stated quietly.

Crowley refused to acknowledge the statement.


	4. Chapter 4

"We have a problem," Cass stated entering Dean's room.

"Yeah tell me about it," Dean replied. 

"You don't understand. Crowley really does care for Sam."

"There's a difference between caring about someone and love," Dean answered tiredly.

"I know that Dean."

"Besides, Crowley hasn't been human long enough to know what love really means."

"He was human before he was a demon."

"That was a long time ago."

"Not long enough."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm not _trying_ to say anything, I'm actually saying it Dean. Crowley's in love with Sam."

"And you know this for a fact how?"

"I, uh. I visited him."

"Uh huh."

"While I was there I might have..."

"You might have what Cass?"

"I might have used some of my grace to look inside him to see what his intentions really were."

"Damn it Cass, you don't have enough grace left to do things like that."

"Doing something like that doesn't require a lot of grace Dean."

"That's not the point Cass, you need to save what little grace you have left."

"You're missing the bigger picture Dean. Crowley does love Sam."

"Not possible. You interpreted it wrong or some thing."

"I know what I saw Dean."

"You're sure you aren't mistaken?"

"Positive."

"Damn it."

"What are we going to do?"

"What can we do?"

"We could kill him," Cass stated bluntly.

"For being in love? Come on Cass, be serious."

"I am being serious Dean. Demons weren't meant to fall in love."

"Why not? What happens?"

Cass hesitated. "That's a difficult question to answer. Demons don't have inhibitions. They do what they want whenever they want. They don't usually think of anything other than what they want which usually turns out bad for any other party involved. If it were any other demon I would have killed him already. Crowley seems to be dealing with this better than I would have believed possible."

"The human blood?"

"Perhaps," Cass answered with a shrug. "You do know that won't last, don't you?"

"The 'reformation' from the injections? Yeah. I keep trying to tell Sammy that and he won't listen."

"If it is the blood keeping Crowley from acting on his feelings then we're going to have a problem when it wears off."

"Is there anything else it might be?"

Cass shrugged again. 

"Damn it," Dean grumbled. "If Crowley does anything to Sam-"

"I won't let that happen," Cass assured Dean.

"One wrong move and you better not hesitate to gank him."

"I won't."

*-*-*

If Castiel breathed one word to Sam he really would kill the annoying, stubborn, self-righteous, goody two-shoes angel; cuffs or no cuffs. He would find a way. Crowley had never despised the shackles he wore more than he did at this moment. What he wouldn't give to be able to blast some thing, anything, into pieces right now. Unable to sit still any longer Crowley stood and paced. He had underestimated the angel. 

He wasn't stupid, he knew Sam didn't like men in that manner. Even if he did what would Sam ever see in anyone like him? Cursing Crowley kicked the chair. As it skidded across the room it hit the wall with a very disappointing crash. If he had been fully human and not partially a demon it might have made him feel better. At this point it only served to remind him of his lost powers. Damn the shackles, damn Dean, and damn the angel. After a moment's thought Crowley cursed Sam as well. What right did Sam have to make him feel anything again after all these years?

_"I could care less whether or not you live or die. What I do care about is Sam. If you really cared about him you might stop to think about what this attitude is doing to him."_

Trying to block out Dean's words Crowley let his eyes drift closed and slumped against the table. He knew his attitude would hurt Sam. It was the whole reason for the attitude actually. Push Sam away. Hurt Sam now to keep him from getting hurt worse later. There was no way Dean would ever understand how much it hurt to say those things to Sam. Crowley would give anything to have Sam return his feelings, even in the slightest. 

No, Crowley thought. It's better if he doesn't feel the same. It won't hurt him as much when I finally leave or if something happens to me. No matter what Crowley might want there was no way he could stay. Sooner or later someone was going to show up to kill him and that would put Sam in danger. He couldn't put Sam in danger. Wouldn't. This was useless. He had only managed to three-sixty back to where he had started. How did he protect Sam without hurting him more than necessary?

*-*-*

"Hey Kevin," Sam asked as he entered the room. "How's it going?"

Looking up Kevin stared at him. Sam shifted uncomfortably while Kevin eyed him. The kid looked terrible. When was the last time Kevin got any sleep, Sam wondered. Guilt began to set in. They should have checked in with Kevin sooner.

"How's it going? Are you serious?"

Sam opened his mouth to speak but Kevin cut him off once more.

"I've been stuck in this room forever. I don't do anything but decipher this stupid chunk of rock. You two promised if I did my job you would shut the gates of hell, and you didn't. Not only that you bring the person who killed my mother back to live here with me while I continue doing something you said I would be done with!"

Sam winced at the words. "You're right and I'm sorry. I really did think we would be done with this. I'm also sorry we had to bring Crowley back here but we need him."

"We wouldn't need him if we had closed the gates."

"That wasn't possible. Look, I know you're not happy about him being here-"

"Not happy?"

"Okay, understatement I know, but we need him. Since we couldn't close the gates having a list of demons on Earth is the next best thing."

"He's been here almost a week. How long does it take to make a list?"

"It takes as long as it takes. There's also other concerns as well."

"Other concerns?"

"Like what to do about Abaddon. As long as Crowley's cooperating with us we might as well use it to our advantage."

"And what about figuring out where my mom is?"

"I promise I'll ask him that the next time I see him."

Kevin let out an annoyed huff and Sam couldn't blame him. Kevin had every right to be upset. Hell, he'd probably be upset too if he was in the kid's shoes. It made what he had to ask Kevin next all the more difficult.

*-*-*

Seething Dean began to pace. This so couldn't be happening. Cass had to have misread Crowley's emotions. Dean paused as his door flew open and Kevin stomped his way into the room. Sam entered the room on Kevin's heels looking extremely annoyed. 

"Did you know about this," Kevin asked angrily.

"About what," Dean asked glancing quickly from Sam and back to Kevin.

"About him wanting to use me to feed his addiction," Kevin snapped.

"Crowley?"

"Don't, just don't. I don't even want to hear that name right now."

"I can't donate every time. We need you," Sam insisted.

"Get him to do it," Kevin replied gesturing to Dean.

"Can't," Dean informed Kevin. "Giving Crowley too much of my blood wouldn't end well."

"What do you mean 'wouldn't end well'?"

"I mean it'd end up making him more of a jackass. Sammy's right Kevin. We need you to do this."

"You can't seriously expect me to willingly do something to help Crowley?"

"Nope, not asking you to help Crowley. We're asking you to help Sammy."

"Look, Kevin, I can't donate all the time. We need someone else," Sam pleaded.

Kevin hesitated.

"You hate him. I get it, I really do, but we don't have anyone else we can ask," Dean stated.

"He feels guilt," Sam said quietly.

Both Kevin and Dean turned to look at Sam.

"He feels guilt now. If you want him to feel bad for what he did you'll donate blood to keep him mostly human."

The room was silent as Kevin seemed to think about Sam's words.

"Only on one condition," Kevin said finally. "He tells us where my mom's body is so that I can finally bury her."

*-*-*

After a brief stop the three of them made their way down to the dungeon. Flipping on the lights in the outer room Sam hung back with Kevin while Dean opened the door to the dungeon. Honestly he wished Dean hadn't chosen to accompany them but Dean had been adamant. When the shelves parted the three of them entered the dungeon and Sam inspected Crowley. There were no obvious signs of withdrawal but the demon still didn't seem to be faring well.

Crowley's hair was mussed and sticking out randomly. The suit had definitely seen better days. Bags were forming under his eyes like a person who hadn't gotten anywhere near enough sleep. There was an odd look in Crowley's eyes that, while vaguely familiar, Sam couldn't quite place. As the three of them entered Crowley's eyes landed on Sam briefly before flitting to Kevin. Sam could almost see the wheels turning in Crowley's mind.

"Alright here's the deal," Dean began as he dropped the notebook on the desk and slid into the only other chair. "There's plenty of paper here for you to finish the list. Also we have a new stipulation. You're going to tell us what you did with Mrs. Tran's body."

Another emotion filtered across Crowley's eyes and Sam frowned. Crowley dropped his head and shook it slightly. Dean opened his mouth and Sam put a hand on his brother's shoulder. Walking around the table Sam knelt down next to Crowley.

"Hey," Sam said quietly

Crowley bit into his bottom lip.

"What's up?"

"She," Crowley began before hesitating. "I want to say she's not dead," he whispered.

"Except you can't because you killed her," Kevin interrupted.

Crowley bit his bottom lip again and shook his head.

"You didn't kill her," Sam asked.

"No, but I might as well have," Crowley admitted weakly.

"Liar!"

Sam raised his head and glared at Dean. Dean seemed to take the hint. Turning Dean motioned for Kevin to keep quiet. Kevin crossed his arms and glared at Crowley. Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to Crowley.

"What do you mean by that," Sam continued softly.

Crowley suddenly lifted his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "I ordered them not to kill her. If she's dead it's not my fault," he stated defiantly.

Sam shook his head at the attitude. "We're not blaming you. Can you tell me what you know?"

Crowley's defiant expression faltered momentarily.

"Please," Sam asked.

"I..." He shook his head as if to clear it. "I ordered them not to harm her," he stated stubbornly.

"Who," Sam asked, conscientious not to raise his voice too loud.

"The demons I left guarding her."

"Where is she?"

Crowley turned suddenly and grabbed Sam's shirt. "I told them not to touch her. I did!"

"I believe you," Sam replied calmly.

Crowley's eyes bore into him and Sam waited patiently.

"I told them," he repeated finally. His grip loosened and his hands slipped from Sam's shirt.

"I believe you," Sam repeated. He laid a hand on Crowley's arm.

Crowley shook his head. "They're demons. I should have picked someone else."

"You can't change the past. All you can do is work to fix the future."

Nodding minutely Crowley slowly pulled the notebook closer. "Pen?"

Sam turned and Dean held out a red crayon. Shaking his head Sam tried hard not to roll his eyes. Sam was all for letting Crowley use a pen or pencil but Dean insisted Crowley not be given anything other than a crayon. In the end it was just easier not to argue. Taking the crayon Sam placed it on top of the notebook and waited. Crowley picked up the crayon and inspected it. Sam cleared his throat. Opening the notebook Crowley scribbled down an address and ripped the sheet of paper out of the notebook.

"This is where I was holding her," he said quietly.

"How many demons," Dean asked.

"Two."

"Anything else we need to know about," Sam asked.

"There were two other people in storage units next to hers. I don't know if they're still alive either."

Nodding Sam stood up. 

"Kevin?"

The group turned back to face Crowley.

"I'm sorry."

"Whatever," Kevin muttered. 

"I'll be back as soon as I get her," Dean told them. "You two good?"

"Yeah," Sam answered waving off his brother's concern. "We're good."

"You're going alone," Crowley asked, suddenly looking to Dean.

"None of your business," Dean replied before leaving.

"Sam you can't let him go alone. What if some thing happens to him?"

Holding up a finger to signal for Crowley to wait Sam paused to give his brother time to leave. Sam stood and checked the connecting room. No sign of Dean. Walking back Sam sat down in the chair across from Crowley.

"Cass is going with him. He'll be fine."

The relief he saw in Crowley's face was almost tangible. He doubted Dean would ever believe him if he told his brother Crowley had truly been worried about him. Checking his watch Sam sighed. There was no way to actually time when the cravings would hit but they did seem to happen more or less in the late afternoon. Well, they seemed to present outward symptoms in the late afternoon. 

"How are you feeling," he asked Crowley.

Crowley cocked his head and furrowed his brows. "About what?"

"The cravings?"

Crowley sighed and shook his head. "I know you only want to help. I just don't want..." Crowley trailed off and seemed to be searching for a good way to phrase what he wanted to say. 

"I was wrong," Sam said simply.

"Wrong?"

"I left when you needed help."

"I insulted you to get you to leave," Crowley said flatly.

"Yeah, but I promised I wouldn't ever give up on you. I'm sorry."

Crowley frowned. 

"I know you don't like yourself much right now-"

Crowley scoffed. "Understatement," he muttered.

"But I gave my word. I'm sorry."

"Sam-"

"I'm not sorry," Kevin interjected.

Right. Kevin. Sam had forgotten about him.

"You made my life hell," Kevin continued.

Crowley's eyes slid closed.

"I still don't know if you killed my mother."

"I didn't."

"How the hell am I supposed to believe you?"

Crowley didn't answer.

"Kevin," Sam stated quietly.

"And you. How dare you take his side!"

"He's right," Crowley whispered.

"Hush," Sam ordered Crowley. "I'm not taking anyone's side," he informed them both. "The cravings are going to start soon."

"Sam-"

"No," Sam stated bluntly. "I'm not giving up. I told you that already."

Crowley frowned. 

"No. So you can give up on that."

"Sam-"

"No."

Crowley hung his head.

"You might as well tell me when the cravings hit."

"Always," Crowley whispered.

"What?"

"There's always a craving. It's just if I postpone it for too long it has... side effects."

"Like the shakes?"

"Yeah. Sam?"

"Hmm?"

"You shouldn't care about me."

"True."

Crowley looked away uncomfortably.

"But I do. What is, is, Crowley."

"I don't deserve you."

"No, you don't. But you got me."

"For what it's worth... I'm sorry."

"I know."

*-*-*

"Mrs. Tran?"

Nope. Just another empty storage unit. Figures.

"Hello?"

The voice was muffled but audible. "Mrs. Tran?"

Pause. "Yes?" 

Confirmation enough. Dean shoved the metal door upward and peered into the darkness.

"Sam?"

"Dean," he corrected. "I'm here to rescue you."

"Kevin?"

"He's fine. I'll take you to him." Dean removed the bindings around her wrists.

"So he's..."

"He's fine," Dean assured her. 

*-*-*

"I'm fine Sam!"

"For now."

A shiver ran through him and Crowley suppressed it. "Just go!"

"No."

"Fuck you!"

"Yep."

Another shiver. Damn it. "I don't need your help!"

"Don't care," Sam replied easily. "You're not getting rid of us," Sam informed him.

Fuck! He desperately needed to get rid of the two of them. 

"The cravings always manifest in the late afternoon."

"So," Crowley ground out.

"So they're fixing to manifest soon," Sam informed him. "It's just easier if you just tell me when they hit."

"Fuck you!"

Sam rolled his eyes. 

"I don't need you!"

Sam rolled his eyes again.

"I'm..." Crowley shivered again. "...fine."

Sam frowned and Crowley tried to find a way to deny what was happening.

"You need blood," Sam stated.

"Fuck off!"

Okay so maybe he wasn't the most diplomatic when it came to Sam. 

"I can see the shakes."

"Fuck you," Crowley repeated.

"You need blood."

"I don't need anything from you," Crowley argued.

"Okay," Sam replied cryptically.

Crowley frowned at the remark. What? Another wave a shakes hit and sharp pains stabbed at him. Crossing his arms over his stomach he winced as he doubled over. There was a sharp prick and he glanced up to see Sam standing over him.

"Told y-you-"

"Not my blood," Sam told him.

Crowley's eyes shot to Kevin. No. Just no. 

*-*-*

"Sammy?"

Nothing. Dean inspected the bunker. "Sammy," he called again.

"Yeah," Sam answered from the second balcony 

"Kevin?"

"Meh." Sammy replied.

"Crowley?"

"I don't think we should use Kevin's blood again."

"Why not?"

"Crowley still hasn't woken up yet."

Dean frowned at the information. "Where'd you put him?"

"In your room."

"Seriously Sammy?"

"It was closer than mine. I had to carry him myself."

Dean shook his head. "You know I still don't trust him?"

"I know."

Cass entered with Mrs. Tran leaning against him.

"It would be easier if you let me carry you."

"I told you I can walk," Mrs. Tran argued.

"Dean why don't you go get Kevin," Cass suggested.

*-*-*

"It's been four days."

"And?"

"And you know what I mean!"

"Pardon me if don't care much about Crowley's well being."

"Come on Dean, even you have to care that it's been four days."

"I care that we don't have a complete list. By the way either you get him out of my room today or I'm chucking him in the hall."

"Damn it Dean!"

"What," Dean asked.

Rolling his eyes Sam left the kitchen. It had been four days since Crowley had been cognizant. Dean seemed unrepentant and Cass was temporarily unreachable. When the two returned from getting Kevin's mother Sam had Cass check on Crowley. The angel hadn't been able to help. 

_"Since he hasn't died so far, I can only assume he'll wake up eventually. What possessed you to use Kevin's blood in the first place?"_

_"We needed another person to be able to donate."_

_"And you thought it would be a good idea to use a prophet's blood? You do realize that to be a prophet means he has a touch of the divine in his blood?"_

Since then Cass had left to see what he could find out about the situation. Sam checked in on Crowley again but his body was still immobile. "I'm sorry," he murmured to the body. "I didn't know."

His brow furrowed. Was that a twitch? Sam walked forward and sat down on the bed next to Crowley. Sam brushed some of Crowley's hair off of his forehead. With nothing else to do he might as well watch over Crowley for a little while.

*-*-*

"Sam!"

"Shh, I'm here."

"Sam?"

"Shh."

"Don't leave me."

"Not planning on it."

"Please?"

"Shh. It's okay. I'm not going to leave you."

Crowley curled into Sam's side. He knew it wouldn't last but for now it was all that mattered. Him and Sam. Sam and him. Crowley winced. What right did he have to take comfort in Sam's embrace? He couldn't think straight with Sam this close. He needed to put distance between them. There were things that needed to be done. 

"Mrs. Tran," he asked shoving himself away from Sam's side.

God his head was killing him.

"First things first. You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be," Crowley asked confused.

"You've been out for four days."

Four days? His brow wrinkled as he thought about it. 

"So how are you feeling?"

"Hurts," Crowley mumbled. Swinging his feet over the side of the bed he rubbed his head and looked around. Sam's room again.

"How many fingers do I have up?"

Crowley frowned. Seriously? He glanced at the hand Sam was holding up. "Two?"

"And now?"

"Three?"

"Now?"

"Sam," Crowley stated flatly.

"Just making sure you're alright."

"Better than I have a right to be," Crowley murmured.

"What?"

"Nothing. Anything to eat around here?"

*-*-*

Sam frowned at Crowley's attitude. It had been four days since Crowley had last been cognizant. Ever since Crowley had finally woken up he had thrown himself into being useful. Currently they were sitting at the table. Crowley was scarfing down the breakfast Sam made while working on the list in between bites. It was difficult for Sam to watch Crowley attempt to eat still cuffed. Maybe they could remove them. He'd have to discuss it with Dean later.

"That better be the demon list you're working on," Dean called out as he entered.

"New crayon," Crowley replied holding out the stub of a crayon he was currently using.

Sam pulled another crayon out of the box and exchanged it with Crowley's.

"Why can't we just give him a pen," Sam asked Dean.

"No point," Crowley answered without taking his eyes off of the list. "Almost done."

Dean shrugged and Sam rolled his eyes. "Can we at least remove the cuffs now?"

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Oh come on Dean, he's not going to try anything."

"You don't know that."

"Why would he? He can't blink out of the bunker and he can't get through the doors unless we remove the warding. He'd be stuck in here if he ever did anything."

"You think that's going to stop him?"

"Sam," Crowley interrupted quietly. 

Sam turned to Crowley.

"Thank you. It's a nice thought but let's be realistic. Dean's right. If I wanted to do something to either of you being stuck in here wouldn't deter me. I'd find a way to get out eventually."

" _If_ you wanted to hurt us," Sam stressed. "Do you?"

"Sam-"

"Answer the question."

"No, but that doesn't mean you should believe me Sam."

"I do believe you."

"We've already had this conversation Sam."

"Yep. And if I remember right you couldn't give me a good reason not to trust you then."

"I'm a demon Sam."

"Not good enough."

"Good enough for me," Dean replied.

"Listen to your brother Moose."

"Don't take my side," Dean warned Crowley.

Crowley rolled his eyes and slumped back in the chair.

The sound of approaching footsteps caused Sam to turn back to the door. 

"What's he doing out of the dungeon," Kevin growled.

"I'm watching him Kevin. He's not going to do anything."

"Whatever," Kevin muttered.

"How's your mom," Dean asked.

Kevin glared at Crowley.

"Didn't your angel heal her yet," Crowley asked.

Sam exchanged glances with Dean. 

"None of your business," Dean answered.

Crowley frowned.

Sam cleared his throat. "So is the list finished?"

"Sam, why hasn't Castiel healed her yet?"

"None of your business," Dean repeated.

"I was talking to Sam," Crowley bit out.

"Look, there's no reason not to tell him," Sam stated.

"I can think of plenty," Dean replied.

"Tell me what," Crowley persisted.

Sam ignored Crowley for the moment and continued staring at Dean.

"Whatever. I swear if he tries anything against Cass because you told him..."

"Yeah, yeah, you'll gank him."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever, I'm gonna grab some thing to eat. That list better be done by the time I get done eating."

As Dean left Kevin followed him out of the room and into the kitchen. Sam finally turned back to Crowley. Crowley was still watching him expectantly.

"Metatron stole Cass' grace. He's working on borrowed grace for now. We don't know how long it's going to last. The more he uses it-"

"The faster he'll lose it," Crowley finished. "Sam?"

"Hm?"

"Demon's don't usually use their powers to heal people..."

Cocking his head Sam frowned at Crowley.

"I, uh. I could end up making it worse."

"You want to try to heal Kevin's mom?"

"I'd like to but I can't promise I won't make it worse. Maybe it's better if I don't?"

"How sure are you that you can do this?"

"I'm not, that's the point."

"Give me a percentage."

Crowley's lips pressed together as he thought about it. "Honestly? Fifty-fifty," he answered with a shrug.

*-*-*

Knocking on the door to Dean's bedroom Sam didn't bother to wait before opening the door and sticking his head inside.

"Hey has Cass checked in yet?"

"Not yet. Why?"

Sam shrugged. "Just wanted to ask him about some thing. You think he's okay?"

"Cass can take care of himself."

"I know, I'd just feel better if he weren't out there alone."

"The list?"

Sam held up the notebook and tossed it to Dean.

"You know this doesn't change anything?"

Sam shook his head. Leaving he shut the door behind himself. Pulling out his cell phone he headed to his own room as he dialed Cass.

_"Sam?"_

"Hey Cass, can I ask you a question," Sam asked walking into his room.

_"Sure."_

"Have you ever heard of demons being able to heal?"

_"Themselves?"_

"Others."

_"No."_

"Do you think it can be done?"

_"I don't know. Why? What did Crowley say now?"_

"Said he doesn't know either. He wanted to try to heal Kevin's mom."

_"You realize he could be using this as a ploy to get the cuffs off?"_

"I doubt it. He's one of the strongest supporters for keeping them on."

_"Crowley wants to keep them on?"_

"Uh, I'm not sure if he wants to keep them on, but he's siding with Dean about not taking them off."

_"Strange."_

"So what do you think?"

_"It should be a matter of directing the effects outward. I've never heard of a demon actually healing anyone, though."_

"He's worried he might make it worse."

_"It is a possibility. When did he wake up?"_

"A few hours ago. Probably around nine or so I'd say."

_"Just as well. I wasn't able to find out anything useful."_

"You coming back soon?"

_"On my way back now. I should be there in another three hours or so."_

"See you then Cass."

_"See you Sam."_

Hanging up Sam stared at his phone as he thought about everything. If they were seriously going to consider this he needed to talk to Kevin and his mom before hand.

*-*-*

Having been left in the dining room when Sam left to talk to Dean Crowley decided to wander. His curiosity was usually what got him into trouble. After inspecting a few rooms casually he realized he had ended up back at Sam's room. Figures, he thought. Knocking Crowley waited but there was no response. He knocked again and opened the door. No sign of Sam inside the room. Closing the door Crowley sat down in the only chair in the room. Sam obviously wasn't big on decorating, he noted.

Still having the notebook would have been useful. It would have been nice to make a list of all possible options. Sighing Crowley mentally crossed off another option. There was still a small handful of options available but the list was dwindling. Pretty soon someone was going to ask him how to get rid of Abbadon. He needed to know what to tell the brothers and what not to tell them.

*-*-*

After inspecting a few rooms including the dungeon and still not finding Crowley Sam was getting ready to ask Dean. Like that would go over well? 'Hi I know I was supposed to watch Crowley but I seemed to have lost him. Have you seen him lately?' Checking his room was his last ditch effort. Opening the door he peered into his room. He found Crowley sitting in the chair and leaning over the desk completely asleep. Walking closer he watched the demon for a few more minutes. There was no way he could be comfortable like that. Reaching out he shook Crowley's shoulder carefully.

"Crowley?"

Crowley's head shot up and his hands jerked to knock Sam's hand off of him. Sam backed up and held his hands up in front of him.

"Whoa, easy. It's just me."

"Sam?"

"Yeah, you okay?"

Blinking several times Crowley turned and inspected the room.

"Yeah," he said as he turned back to face Sam. "Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

Crowley bit his bottom lip and turned away. Sam was starting to recognize the unconscious gesture. Sighing Sam moved to sit on the bed.

"You know you can talk to me about anything right?"

"I'm fine," Crowley stated without turning to face Sam.

"Cravings?"

Crowley shook his head. "Not too bad yet."

"Then what's up?"

"Nothing."

"You bite you're lip when you don't want to say what's on your mind."

Finally Crowley turned back and stared at Sam. Crowley started to bite his bottom lip again but stopped himself.

"Talk to me. Please?"

"Not about this. Not right now. Some other time?"

"I'll let it go for now if you give me your word you'll talk to me about this later."

Crowley hesitated briefly before finally nodding. "Later."

Sam gave a single nod and finally stood. "Okay so I have a plan. You're worried about making things worse if you tried to heal Mrs. Tran?"

"Yeah, I've never healed another. It's not exactly some thing demons do an awful lot."

"Okay. So we take a test run."

"What?"

Sam pulled out his pocket knife and rolled up his sleeve.

"No!"

"Yes," Sam answered as he made a cut across his forearm.

"Damn it Sam! Bloody hell!"

"It's not life threatening Crowley."

"I don't know what's going to happen if I try this. I'm not testing it out on you!"

"Cass says it should simply be a matter of directing the effects outward."

"Bloody angels think they know everything," Crowley sulked.

"Even if it doesn't work we're no worse off than we were."

"Unless I screw up and make it worse."

"You won't and Cass will be here soon."

"Even if I wanted to I couldn't." Crowley lifted his hands and jingled the chains.

Sam reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the keys.

"Dean would kill me the second he finds out about this."

"You let me worry about Dean."

"Damn it, Sammy."

"Yep."

"I won't do it!"

*-*-*

By the time Dean had finished reading through the list he was beginning to think Sam might have had a point. It was difficult to read some names and the random color changes were a nightmare. Maybe they should have let Crowley use a pen. Rubbing his eyes he finally closed the notebook. It would take quite a while to check on all the names. Right now there were other things that needed their attention. If the list was real then Crowley was finally cooperating. It might be worth seeing if he had any information on how to kill Abbadon or how to get rid of Metatron.

Hopefully Sam had returned Crowley to the dungeon but it paid to be thorough. Dean made his way to the dining room; no Sam, no Crowley. That much was good. As he turned to make his way to the dungeon his cell rang. Pulling it out he checked the caller I.D. as he continued walking. Dean sighed in relief, finally Cass. Flipping open the cell he pressed accept.

"Hey what's up?"

_"Not much. I made it back to the bunker. Is the door open?"_

"No but I'm close. I'll unlock it."

_"Thanks."_

Flipping the phone closed he changed course and headed to unlock the door. 

"Hey," he greeted when Cass finally entered the bunker.

"Hey," Cass answered.

"So Crowley's back in the land of the living."

"I know."

"You know?"

"Sam called."

"What did he have to say?"

"He wanted to know if I knew about demons being able to heal people."

"Heal?"

"Apparently Crowley wants to try to heal Kevin's mother."

"What the fuck. Damn it Sammy!"

Turning Dean rushed to the dungeon.

"Sammy," he called out as he neared the room. He rushed down the stairs and to the shelves. Grabbing the shelves he yanked them open. The dungeon was empty. 

"Sam," Cass asked coming up behind him.

"No and no Crowley either."

"Where next?"

"You check on the Tran's, I'll check Sam's room."

With a nod Cass was heading back up the stairs just ahead of Dean.

*-*-*

"Sammy!"

Suddenly the bedroom swung open and banged loudly against the wall. Crowley's eyes shot to Dean's face. He had just enough time to truly appreciate how screwed he was before Dean began stalking towards him. Sam stood up and put himself between Crowley and Dean. Standing up off of the bed Crowley began backing away until he reached the far wall.

"Dean, stop."

"Move Sammy," Dean growled.

Sam held out both arms and placed his hands against Dean's chest to slow his brother down.

"He didn't do anything wrong. You promised."

Dean glanced down to Sam's arm and Crowley winced.

"What happened to your arm Sammy?"

"I did that to myself."

"I'm supposed to believe that?"

"You really think if Crowley was trying to hurt me he wouldn't have done more than that?"

"Why would you cut yourself?"

"We were testing something."

"Testing?"

"Dean," Castiel called from the hallway. 

Sam had said the angel would be back soon.

"In here Cass," Dean called out. 

After a few tense moments Castiel entered Sam's room as well. "What happened to your arm Sam?"

"I did it, not Crowley."

"Why?"

"To test something."

"Him healing," Castiel asked.

"Yeah."

"He's a demon Sam. Demon's don't heal people," Dean growled.

"He can heal himself," Sam pointed out. "We're trying to figure out if he can direct it outward."

"I've tried to go along with this Sam. I only had two rules. You've definitely broken one of them. What happened to the chains stay on?"

"I was going to put them back on, Dean."

"You should never have taken them off in the first place."

"At least not without one of us present," Castiel added.

"Ever," Dean argued.

"It was my fault," Crowley blurted out suddenly. The other three people in the room turned around to stare at him and he wished he had kept his mouth shut. He just couldn't stand them blaming Sam for this. He hadn't wanted to test this out on Sam, but it was still his idea initially.

"It was my idea to try to help make up for some of what I've put Mrs. Tran and Kevin through."

"You really thought they'd agree to this," Dean asked.

"Honestly? No, but even if they did I was willing to try."

"And Sam's arm," Dean pressed.

"His idea actually. He wanted me to test it on him first."

"And you agreed to this?"

"Are you daft? Of course I didn't. Why would I willingly-" Crowley snapped his mouth shut. Stupid, stupid, stupid he berated himself. 

"Willingly what," Sam asked.

Of course Sam would question it. No way he was getting out of this without answering. "Why would I willingly test something on you that might hurt you? I'm not completely stupid, you know. You're brother would kill me. If it all went to hell and he walked in at just the wrong moment?"

Hopefully Sam thought he was more scared of Dean killing him than he was scared of hurting Sam. To be perfectly honest both thoughts terrified him right now so at least it was an honest half-truth. Please don't let him question it, Crowley prayed. Sam cocked his head and frowned as he continued to stare at Crowley. As Sam opened his mouth Castiel spoke up before Sam could.

"Why would you volunteer to heal someone?"

"I told you. I wanted to make up for things."

"Yes but why not wait for me to heal them?"

Crowley pressed his lips together, unwilling to be the one to tell Castiel how much he knew.

"I told him about your grace," Sam finally answered.

"I see."

"He was already questioning it. It was only a matter of time before he realized something was seriously wrong with you."

"This does present us with a better alternative," Crowley interjected.

"Oh," Dean asked crossing his arms. "What's that?"

"I could test this out on Castiel. If the injury is small enough he wouldn't have to use his grace to heal it."

"You're out of your mind," Dean growled.

"It's actually not a bad idea," Castiel answered.

"Have you lost your mind? You really trust him?"

"I can take care of myself Dean."

"No you can't. That's the problem. For all intents and purposes you're human. We don't have any idea how human Crowley was or is still."

"I'll be fine Dean. Besides, better he test this on me than Sam. If it does backfire I'll know immediately and I'll be able to stop any truly negative effects before they become a problem."

"I can't believe you're seriously considering this."

"You still have the demon blade right," Crowley interrupted. "You could keep it on me while I try this."

"I'll do it," Sam volunteered.

"No you won't. I can't trust you to keep the cuffs on him because you feel sorry for him. You think I'd trust you with Cass' life?"

"All you've wanted to do is gank him. How do I trust you with Crowley's life?"

"It's better if it's Dean Sam," Crowley replied.

"Seriously? You trust him?"

"If he gives his word? Yes," Crowley answered honestly. "Castiel's grace will let him know if anything is going wrong immediately. He's also more experienced in healing. He can help give me pointers about how it should be feeling, what to do different, that sort of thing. Dean would never allow us to do this if he's not the one holding the blade. I haven't touched my powers since before the church. Your attention would be too torn between the two of us to notice any minute details. It's better for all parties this way."

Sam turned to his brother. "I swear if you use this as an excuse to kill him because you hate him-" 

"That's why I want to get his word first," Crowley reminded Sam. "You're word Dean, you won't kill me unless you're absolutely positive I'm harming Castiel on purpose."

"Whatever. Let's do this," Dean replied rolling his eyes.

"No," Crowley stated flatly. "I do still happen to have some self preservation left. You're word Dean Winchester."

"Fine. I promise I won't knife you if I don't seriously believe you're harming Cass."

"On purpose," Crowley reminded him.

Dean rolled his eyes again. "On purpose," he agreed.

*-*-*

Dean had insisted they attempt this in the dungeon. Crowley had been adamant about not wanting to leave Sam's room. Cass decided not to get into the middle of the disagreement. Sam had to put his foot down and tell Dean they were doing this in his room and that was final. They were already doing some thing everyone was uncomfortable doing. If he could make it slightly more comfortable for anyone he would. In the end they wound up with Crowley sitting on one side of the bed, Dean standing behind him with the knife at Crowley's throat. Cass sat on the opposite side of the bed with Sam standing behind him and watching Crowley.

"Ready," Cass asked.

"Not really," Crowley answered. "Ready as I'll ever be I suppose."

"Touch your powers," Cass instructed. 

Seconds ticked by before Crowley finally nodded.

"Usually I'd say focus on the emphatic aspects."

Crowley cocked an eyebrow.

"Yeah well, whatever part you draw from to heal yourself, focus on that."

Crowley gave another light nod.

"When you heal yourself your power is directed inward. We need to work on directing that outward."

Crowley cocked his head slightly. Finally Crowley straightened. Taking a deep breath he locked eyes with Cass and gave another small nod.

Cass held out the arm with the cut. "When you're ready relax. Focus the power. Feel it, visualize it."

Crowley reached out a hand and hovered just over Cass' arm. Sam watched Crowley's teeth sink into his bottom lip. Finally Crowley placed the tips of his fingers against the cut and Crowley's eyes slid closed. 

"Crowley," Cass asked quietly.

Crowley bit into his lip harder.

"Relax Crowley. Don't force it."

Taking a few more deep breaths Crowley opened his eyes. 

Cass cocked his head slightly. "Better. You need to relax more and you're still not projecting."

"Grace," Crowley muttered.

"I know," Cass answered. "I have to, to be able to feel your power though."

"Cass," Dean questioned.

"Shh. Not right now Dean. Follow my grace. Trace it back to me."

Suddenly Crowley winced and let out a sharp hiss.

"Shh, I know. I pulled it back, the pain will pass. Crowley?"

"Better," Crowley ground out.

"Again?"

Crowley nodded. 

"Focus on the trail of Grace. Don't touch it," Cass ordered. "Feel it?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Slowly follow it backward." Minutes ticked by and neither moved.

"Good. You're starting to project it outward."

Suddenly Cass jerked.

"Cass," Dean asked again.

"Fine," the angel murmured. "Need to concentrate."

"I can't," Crowley stated.

"You can. Relax. Don't over-think it. Let it flow."

Cass twitched again, though less noticeably this time.

"Yes, just like that. I'm dropping the Grace Crowley. Just relax and let it flow."

For a while nothing happened. Cass shivered slightly and Crowley's brows lowered.

"You're doing well. Don't force it," Cass whispered.

"Hurts. Grace."

"I know," Cass soothed. Cass cocked his head again. "Crowley?"

No response.

"Crowley, stop."

Crowley shook his head.

"Stop now," Cass ordered yanking his arm back.

"What is it," Dean asked instantly.

"No I almost had it!"

"It was hurting you too much."

"That was nothing," Crowley argued. "I've been through worse."

"I will not participate in you causing yourself that much pain."

"I almost had it. Again, now," Crowley insisted.

"No," Cass repeated.

"Please. I need to do this."

Cass inspected his arm and looked back to Crowley. "No. It's too much pain for too little result."

"I can handle the pain."

"No."

"Crowley," Sam stated. "Don't do this. Please?"

"I have to."

"Why," Sam asked.

Crowley shook his head.

"I am asking you, for me, please don't do this." Crowley bit his lip again and Sam shook his head. "Fine, but I won't be a part of this. You want to punish yourself you do it without me."

*-*-*

Crowley's head shot up at Sam's words. He was just in time to see Sam storm out of the room and slam the door shut. Sam was wrong. He wasn't trying to punish himself. He was trying to help people he had hurt. The fact that it cost him no little amount of pain was inconsequential to him. He had to force himself not to follow Sam to try and explain.

"Someone want to tell me what just happened," Dean asked breaking the silence.

Crowley turned and scooted backward to lean against the headboard. Drawing his knees up he wrapped his arms around them.

"I miscalculated how painful it would be for him to heal me," Castiel finally answered.

"For just him or both of you?"

"Both, although it seems to have been exponentially worse for him. Crowley?"

Crowley refused to answer. Why couldn't they just leave?

"We'll be downstairs if you need us," Castiel said softly.

"You want to leave him here?"

"Come on Dean. I'll answer your questions downstairs."

"Shouldn't we take him back to the dungeon first?"

"No. Come on, we need to talk."

Crowley barely noticed the two leave.

*-*-*

"What the hell Cass?"

"He needs time alone right now."

"Unchained and free to roam where ever he wants?"

"He's not going to do anything."

"How do you know?"

"Because of Sam. He knows harming anyone in the bunker would hurt Sam."

"Because he's 'in love'?"

"Yes. I didn't realize how much until our energies touched. Right now he's probably still feeling the after effects of touching my energy. To use my Grace I have to actually touch it. Something I knew wouldn't be pleasant for him so I refrained. I underestimated how much of it he would feel when our energies connected. To heal we connect briefly. Grace is an inherent part of me, of my energy."

"So simply put?"

"Basically he pulled his own energy and pushed it into me thus surrounding his energy with my Grace."

"And that hurt you?"

"It was... uncomfortable. Demonic energy is never pleasant for angels but it is tolerable. I was trying not to touch my Grace to make it easier for him. It took me a while to realize some thing was wrong. The amount of pain he had to be feeling? I don't even want to contemplate it. I actually had to touch my Grace to get him to back off."

"Back off?"

"Pull his own energy back. During that time I got a very in depth look into Crowley."

"And?"

"He would do anything in the world to keep Sam from hurting. Including leaving so Sam can find someone 'good enough' for him."

"Good enough?"

"Crowley's thoughts."

Dean ran a hand through his hair. "Damn it."

"He's pushing himself so that he can make reparations. That's true enough. It's just not the most important part to him."

"What is?"

"Sam's opinion of him."

"You're sure he's not going to leave Sam's room?"

"He feels safe there. He also believes Sam hates him now. He might leave Sam's room eventually if he thinks Sam would want him to leave. If he did he would probably end up back in the dungeon. Going anywhere else would risk Sam becoming more angry at him." Cass shrugged.

"Damn it."


	5. Chapter 5

"Sammy," Dean called out as he descended the stairs. The lights were on and the shelves that hid the dungeon were open. Making his way over Dean peered into the dungeon and sighed. Sam was sitting in the chair opposite where Crowley normally sat staring into space. Walking over Dean stopped just behind his brother.

"Sam?"

"I don't understand it."

"He was desperate to make reparations Sammy." Dean walked around the table and sat in front of his brother. "He just wanted to do something nice for people he's hurt."

"Why hurt himself like that?"

"He doesn't see it like that Sammy. He's a demon. Pain he knows. If he can push through the pain then he can help people."

"You don't believe that."

"Cass believes it, I believe him."

"How is Cass?"

"Better than Crowley." Sam instantly locked eyes with him and Dean waited.

"What's wrong with Crowley?"

Dean shrugged. "Personally I think it's self-pity."

"Dean," Sam growled.

"I know he's upset you're pissed at him."

"I'm pissed at him because I'm trying to teach him the value of life and it's like he doesn't care if lives or dies."

"Did you ever stop to think about how hard he's trying to learn what you're teaching?"

"What?"

"Think about it Sam. He's willing to do everything you've asked. He made a list of demons he has possessing people. He appologized to Kevin. He offered to try his best to heal people and endured amazing amounts of pain to learn how. He keeps trying to get you to give up on him because he's scared he'll hurt you if he turns full demon again. I'd say he's learning the value of life remarkably fast for someone who's been a demon as long as him."

"I never thought about it like that," Sam admitted.

"Look, far be it from me to hand out compliments to Crowley but I'm actually starting to believe him."

"Really?"

"You didn't see his face when you left. It was like he'd failed because he couldn't do some thing demons weren't meant to do. He's pretty sure you hate him right now."

Sam frowned. "I don't hate him."

"Maybe you should tell him that."

"Where is he?"

"At last check? Still in your room. Cass thinks Crowley will probably stay there unless he thinks you'd want him to leave."

"Did you put the chains back on?"

"No."

"No?"

"No point. Told you, he's in the middle of a pity-party. Pretty sure we're safe."

"I probably should go talk to him."

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Should he tell Sam? Sam seemed to be making actual progress with Crowley. If he told Sam would that change his brother's attitude toward the demon? Someone stepped into the doorway and Dean glanced up to see what was here. Crowley, he thought. Of fucking course.

"I could come back later," Crowley said quietly.

Sam jumped slightly and turned.

"Hey," Sam greeted him.

"Hey," Crowley repeated back.

"No point in coming back later. I need to show you to your new room," Dean said standing up.

"New room?" Crowley's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Yep, follow me."

As they made their way through the living area Cass glanced over to them. Crowley kept his eyes down and studiously refused to meet the angel's gaze as they passed. Dean led them up the stairs and down the hall past his own room. He stopped one door short of Sam's room and opened the door. "I'll get you some clean sheets but you're making your own bed," he informed Crowley.

"Why," Crowley asked.

"Because I'm not making your bed," Dean answered.

"No. Why are you doing this?"

"Because I feel like it. Shut your trap and roll with it Crowley."

Crowley nodded once and dropped his eyes again.

"Crowley," Sam said quietly.

Crowley slowly lifted his eyes and met Sam's.

"How are the cravings?"

Crowley bit his lip.

"New stipulation," Dean announced. "You tell someone before the cravings get bad. If you don't I'm putting the chains back on you."

Crowley opened his mouth and looked like he was fixing to argue with him. Dean crossed his arms and waited. Finally Crowley nodded assent.

"Now then," Crowley said softly. "Too much longer and I won't be able to hide the shakes."

"Sammy?"

"I'll get the kit," Sam replied before taking off.

"Why are you doing this?"

Dean thought about the question before answering. "Because I care about Sammy too," he said finally. "While he's gone there is one more thing."

Crowley looked at him intently.

"If you do anything, anything, to hurt him I will kill you and even he won't be able to stop me."

"Understood."

\--------

Sam reacted by instinct and, before he even knew why, he was sitting up in bed pointing a gun at the person before him. Tilting his head slighly he squinted in the darkness. Finally he uncocked the gun and lowered it. "Crowley?"

"Sorry."

"What are you doing here?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Blood," Sam asked, stifling a yawn.

"No."

Sam checked the clock next to the bed. "It's four-thirty in the morning Crowley. You're going to have be a little more blunt for me to figure out what's going on."

"I was just wondering."

"More blunt Crowley. More informative."

"I was planning on sneaking past and sleeping in your chair."

"What?"

"The chair. I couldn't sleep in my room so I just figured... I mean I was hoping you wouldn't mind..."

Sam groaned and fell back onto his bed. Shoving the gun under his pillow he scooted to the far edge of the bed. "I mind. No sleeping in the chair. Take that side of the bed," Sam muttered before rolling onto his side.

.

Opening his eyes Sam realized instantly he was way to hot. Trying to throw the blanket off he was momentarily puzzled when it wouldn't budge. Shifting Sam looked back over his shoulder. Snuggled right behind him, sleeping on top of the blankets was Crowley. Shaking his head Sam did his best to slip out of the bed without waking up the sleeping demon. Grabbing clothes Sam slipped out of his room and closed the door quietly. Making his way to the bathroom he showered and dressed. As he finally exited the bathroom he ran into Dean.

"Hey."

"Mm shower first, then conversation," Dean answered groggily.

Shoving his way past Sam Dean slammed the bathroom door behind himself.

Smiling Sam headed downstairs to start breakfast. Usually Dean cooked breakfast because he was the first one awake. But then, usually Sam didn't wake up to a demon plastered against him. Pausing Sam frowned at the thought. He replayed the conversation from last night. Adding the conversation to the other puzzle pieces he had he still wasn't sure what was going on with Crowley. They were going to have to talk about this pretty soon.

\--------

Crowley yawned as he stretched. It had been so long since he'd had a decent night's sleep. Opening his eyes he stared at the desk. Frowning he realized he shouldn't be on the side of the bed closest to the desk. He had started out on the side closer to the doorway. Somehow he had ended up on Sam's side of the bed. Turning Crowley checked the other side but there was still no Sam. Had he moved onto Sam's side after Sam woken up or before? He had a vague sense of trepidation at the prospect that Sam had been in the bed when Crowley had scooted over this far. Was that why Sam had left without waking him? Before he could question it there was a light knock at the door.

Crowley froze unsure whether or not to answer the knock.

"Crowley?"

Castiel? Standing Crowley made his way over and opened the door.

"Hey," Castiel stated. "Breakfast time if you're hungry."

"Thanks. How did you know I was here?"

Castiel smiled. "Dean offered to come get you and the look on Sam's face made it clear he would rather not have that happen. It was an educated guess that it was because you weren't in your room at the moment."

"Can I ask you some thing?"

"If you need."

"When I, when we... connected..."

"How much did I get?"

"Yeah."

"Probably everything you didn't want me to know and more."

Crowley winced at the thought. "Dean?"

"Dean knows you really care about Sam. Really care. I'm not sure if he's ready to accept it just yet though."

"Sam?"

Castiel sighed before answering. "Neither I nor Dean have said anything to Sam. I really do think you should tell him."

"No. Castiel, about the healing."

"What about it?"

"Maybe we could practice again."

"Out of the question."

"Food's getting cold," Dean called up to them.

"Sam cooked breakfast today," Castiel informed him.

Crowley couldn't help but smile.

As the pair made their way into the kitchen Sam glanced up and frowned. Crowley stopped moving as Castiel continued to the table. Was Sam mad he had shown up last night? He knew he should have stayed in his own room. He just couldn't take being alone with the voice in his head any longer. Sleep offered no reprieve as it only brought the nightmares. In the end he hadn't been able to stop himself. Sam's presence kept the voice quiet and had allowed him at least one good night of sleep.

"You going to eat or just stand there," Dean asked.

All three people at the table were staring at him as he stood there. Castiel glanced at the other two before making a tiny nodding motion to the open chair. Finally Crowley was able to get his feet to move. Sitting down at the table he stared at the plate of food in front of him.

"Didn't know what you liked so I gave you a little bit of everything," Sam told him.

"I'm sure it's fine," Crowley answered.

"Sam's better at breakfast than I am but I make a better burger," Dean said smiling.

"Dean usually gets stuck making breakfast because he wakes up earlier," Sam added.

"Not my fault you sleep too long Sleeping Beauty."

"Shut up Dean," Sam said with a smile.

Crowley hid his smile by taking a bite of eggs. As the breakfast passed the other three made small talk and he watched them. There was an easy feeling about the whole situation. Having never had anything similar to this in his life Crowley watched fascinated and lost himself in the easiness of it all. There was a light poke in his ribs under the table. Turning Crowley frowned at Castiel. The angel motioned to Sam with his eyes.

"Crowley," Sam asked.

"What?"

"Pass the bacon?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry."

Crowley passed the bacon and turned back to Castiel. He tipped his head slightly at angel and Castiel gave him a slight nod. Glancing to Dean he was startled at the strange look the older Winchester was giving him. Dropping his eyes back to his plate Crowley began eating again. When everyone was finished eating he helped clear the table. Dean began washing the dishes and the angel helped dry them.

"The main reason Dean likes making breakfast," Sam told him.

Crowley turned to face Sam. "What?"

"He hates dishes," Sam said with a smile.

"And whoever cooks," Crowley began.

"Doesn't do dishes," Sam finished.

"Makes absolute sense."

.

"Dean, can I talk to you?"

Dean looked up from the book he was reading. "Little busy at the moment Crowley. What do you want?"

"I want to practice healing."

"I don't think Cass is going to go for that."

"Not with him Squirrel, with you."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You really think I'm going to trust you enough for that? Hell I barely trust you enough to let you run around without the shackles."

"I need this Dean."

"Why?"

"I need to be useful."

"You want to be useful? Help find a way to kill Abaddon."

"I'm working on that."

"Work harder."

"I've never asked you for anything since I've been here, not once. Please?"

"Why is this so important to you?"

Crowley bit his lip.

"Crowley."

"If someone comes to kill me, and eventually they will, Sam might try to step in and stop them. If he gets hurt, especially because of me, I want to know how to help him."

"So none of it has anything to do with actually being useful?"

"Actually yes, that part's true as well. I really do want to make up for some of the things I've done."

"I can't help you like Cass did with his Grace."

"I think I understand how to redirect it now. In any event it might actually be easier without the Grace. It'll definitely be less painful."

Crowley watched Dean think about the request. Please say yes, he begged.

"On one condition."

"Anything."

"Cass gets to be present while we do this."

"Done."

Dean gave a sharp nod. "Follow me," he ordered.

Crowley followed Dean into the kitchen and watched as the older Winchester began inspecting the cabinets. Every so often Dean would pull some thing out and set it on the table. Checking the fridge Dean pulled out the milk and stared at it for a second before placing it on the table as well. Opening another cupboard Dean grabbed two plates and placed them on the table.

"Hope you're hungry."

"Why?"

"You want to work on your healing?"

"Yes," Crowley responded cautiously.

"Want to tell Sammy what we're doing after how he reacted yesterday?"

Crowley bit his lip. "I won't lie to Sam," he said finally.

"Oh, for crying out loud. I'm not talking about lying to him. I'm just talking about not telling him."

"Feels like lying," Crowley muttered.

"We doing this or not?"

Crowley nodded.

.

"Sammy!"

Crowley had opted to wash the dishes they'd used. There was no way he would be able to look at Sam while Dean did this. It still felt too much like lying. Instead of having to stand there while Dean told Sam to make a store run Crowley had offered to do the dishes.

"What's up?"

"We're out of a few things. We need to make a store run and it's your turn to go."

Crowley studiously kept his eyes on his hands as Dean handed Sam the list.

"We were good on milk this morning Dean."

"Yeah well, I got thirsty. What can I say?"

"Does it have to be right now?"

"Got some thing else to do right now?"

Crowley bit his lip as his fingers tightened on the plate in his hands.

"Guess not. I'll be right back. Crowley?"

He had to work not to jump at the sound of his name. He rewashed the already clean plate he was holding.

"Yeah?"

"Want anything specific from the store?"

"No, I'm good with whatever," he answered without looking back to Sam. Yep, definitely still felt like lying.

"Alright, see you guys in a few."

"See ya Sammy."

Crowley rinsed the plate as he listened to Sam's retreating footfalls. After a few moments Dean left to check that Sam had finally gone. Crowley finished the remaining dishes and began drying them. He had almost finished drying them all by the time Dean returned.

"Ready?"

"In a second. I want to finish this first."

"We don't have much time Crowley."

"It's only a few cups and some silverware Dean."

"Want help?"

"I have this, you go get Castiel."

"Alright. I'll be right back."

"Not going anywhere," he grumbled as Dean left to get the angel.

When he finished drying he began putting things away. He lost himself in the mundane task. After everything was put away he stepped back and inspected the kitchen. He felt pretty good for the first time in a long time.

"Never thought I'd see the day."

Crowley turned at the sound of Dean's voice.

"The King of Hell, doing dishes."

And that comment shattered the mood. Dean had to remind him that at his core he wasn't anything more than a demon. Maybe he could play at being a human for a while but in the end he would still be nothing more than a monster just like the ones the brothers hunted on a regular basis.

"What," Dean asked.

"Nothing. Everyone ready?"

"I want to say I don't like this idea," Castiel stated.

"Understood," Crowley acknowledged. "Dean?"

"Ready when you are."

Dean pulled out his pocket knife and made a small slice on the top of his forearm. Flipping the knife closed Dean slid it back into his pocket. He sat down and placed his arm on the table. Crowley took a deep breath and released it before he sat next to Dean. Carefully he placed his right hand on top of the small cut. Touch his power, check. Focus on the part he used to heal himself, check. Visualize it, check.

"You're looking tense. Remember Crowley, relax," Castiel said quietly.

Right, relax. He could do that. Crowley took a few more deep breaths. He visualized his energy in his finger tips. Holding onto that image he visualized Dean's energy as it felt to him; swirls of purple and black shot through with silver streaks. As was always the case when he used his powers the word came to him in Latin. _Curatio_. He could feel his power looking for an injury, trying to find something to fix in him. Crowley growled in annoyance and he felt the energy intensify as it continued to search.

"Crowley," Castiel asked quietly.

 _Curabo eum_ , Crowley told the energy. Heal him, _curabo eum_.

"Relax Crowley," Castiel reminded him.

"No," Crowley growled. _Angels_ needed to relax. _Angels_ needed to feel calm. _He_ was a demon. Crowley pulled on his anger and mixed it with his energy. _Curabo eum_ , he told his power as he released it into Dean. Almost from a distance he heard Dean hiss as Dean tried to yank his arm back.

"Crowley stop," Castiel ordered.

Crowley killed the thread of power and opened his eyes. Damn he felt drained. Slumping back in the chair his eyes slid closed. He took a few steadying breaths and finally reopened his eyes.

"Did it work?"

"Oh it worked," Dean told him. "Hurt like a bitch though."

Dean held up his arm and Crowley noted the small red mark where the cut had previously been. All that work, all that effort and all this fatigue just to heal that tiny cut. His head swam as he processed the information.

"Anger," he mumbled.

"What?"

"Anger," he informed them once again as exhaustion finally overtook him.

\--------

"He okay," Dean asked.

"I don't know," Castiel answered. "I've never seen a demon heal a person before. I don't know what kind of repercussions it had on him."

"Can you, you know, check?"

"I could but I'm not sure if I should."

"Why not?"

"I'm not sure if using my Grace to check on him would make anything worse at this point."

"So what do we do then?"

"I think the best thing we can do is put him in a bed and hope he wakes up soon."

"If he doesn't?"

"We should cross that bridge when we get to it."

"What do we tell Sam?"

"No clue. I was all for having Sam present when we did this, remember?"

"Yeah, you and him both."

\--------

"Dean," Sam called out as he entered the bunker.

"Yo," Dean answered as he walked into view.

"One more load of groceries in the car. Can you get them while I put these away?"

"Sure."

Entering the kitchen Sam nodded to Cass as put the groceries on the table.

"Hey."

"Hello Sam."

"Where's Crowley," Sam asked.

"Sleeping."

"Sleeping?"

"Um, yes. Taking a nap."

Sam eyed Cass suspiciously as the angel fidgeted.

"Got the last of them," Dean announced as he entered.

"Thanks. Anything interesting happen while I was out," he asked casually.

"Not really," Dean answered.

"Crowley decided to take a nap?"

Dean shrugged. "Guess he was tired."

"Guess so," Sam stated noncommittally.

Dean helped put the rest of the groceries away. Neither spoke as they worked. When they were done Sam made up a story about going to research some thing or another and left to go check on Crowley. He stopped at Crowley's room and knocked softly. When there was no answer he cracked the door slightly and peeked into the room. Crowley lay on the bed asleep. As Sam watched Crowley tossed a few times. Sam entered the room and shut the door quietly. Moving over to the bed he knelt down and watched the demon. Crowley tossed a few more times and muttered in his sleep. Was Crowley having a nightmare? Sam leaned in to better hear what Crowley was saying.

"No, please," Crowley whimpered. "Please stop. Hurts."

Sam reached out to brush some of Crowley's hair back from his forehead. The second his hand touched him Crowley jerked away.

"No, please. No more pain."

"Shh," Sam whispered. "Shh, you're okay. You're safe Crowley."

"Please... Hurts," Crowley whined in his sleep.

"Safe," Sam whispered again.

Reaching out he touched the backs of his fingers to Crowley's cheek. Crowley flinched but Sam didn't draw back this time. Instead he began to stroke the side of Crowley's cheek softly. After a little bit Crowley's breathing seemed to calm slightly. Sam began whispering quietly as he continued to comfort Crowley. Finally Crowley seemed to settle into an uneasy but much more peaceful sleep.

"Safe Crowley," Sam whispered once more.

"Sam," Crowley whispered.

Sam stared shocked. Did Crowley just whisper his name?

"Crowley?" Sam waited but there was no response.

Sam stood and made his way to the door. Turning he watched Crowley for a few seconds longer. What was it that could give someone like Crowley nightmares like that? Carefully Sam opened the door and stepped into the hallway closing the door behind himself. Sam made his way to his room. He left his door open as he entered. He'd had enough. He needed to find out what was going on with Crowley. Making his way over to his desk he sat down and pull out a a notebook. Carefully he began making a list of all the pieces of information he had so far.

.

Sam rubbed his eyes and checked the time. Had it really already been three hours? He picked up his notebook once again. Tapping his pen against the notebook he skimmed the 'symptom's list' he had made. He crossed off one and added a new one. He was about to run another search when there was a knock at his door. Twisting to look back over his shoulder he spotted Crowley standing in the doorway. Sam closed the notebook and put the pen on top of it.

"What's up?"

Crowley shrugged.

"Want to come in?"

"Yeah."

Sam turned back to the computer. As soon as he spotted the article still on the screen he shut the computer. Smooth Sam, he thought. Close the notes but leave the research showing? Real smooth. He turned back to face Crowley.

"What's up?"

"I'm supposed to tell someone when I need, uh, 'help'."

Sam frowned. "Help?"

"Blood," Crowley clarified.

"Oh. Yeah, sorry. Wasn't thinking clearly. Yeah, one second."

Moving to the nightstand he grabbed the kit and pulled a needle out. Taking off his over shirt he sat down on the bed and searched for a vein. When he found one he extracted the blood and turned back to Crowley.

"Want to sit down?"

Crowley's eyes darted to the bed.

"Bed or chair, your call."

"Chair."

Crowley didn't actually seem pleased with the prospect of sitting in the chair instead. Sam frowned. Unwilling to push the issue of where Crowley sat Sam shrugged and moved over to the desk. Crowley sat down and dropped his eyes to the floor. Sam's frown deepened. Maybe it was time for them to have their talk. Sam injected the blood into Crowley and went to put the needle away. When he was done he shut his bedroom door and leaned back against it.

"Thank you," Crowley said still not looking at him.

"We need to talk," Sam said bluntly.

Crowley's eyes instantly locked onto his.

"You did say later."

Some emotion passed across Crowley's face too fast to identify.

"It's later," he informed Crowley.

Crowley bit into his bottom lip and Sam remained silent.

"I'm still not quite ready," Crowley said quietly.

"I'm starting to think you're probably never going to feel ready, Crowley."

Crowley bit his lip again.

"Tell me what I can do to make this easier."

"You can't."

Sam thought through what he knew. Moving to the bed he sat down on the edge closest to the door. He leaned back against the headboard with his legs stretched out. Casual posture, he told himself.

"Crowley?"

"Yeah."

"Come sit on the bed please."

Crowley shook his head.

"Please?"

"I..."

"Please?"

Crowley finally nodded. As Crowley moved to the bed he didn't look over at Sam once. When he finally sat down on the edge of the bed Crowley looked extremely uncomfortable. Sam continued to wait. Finally Crowley sat back against the headboard and drew his knees up to his chest. Defensive posture, Sam thought to himself. It followed along the same path as the other small clues. Crowley wrapped his arms around his legs and laid his head on his knees facing away from Sam. Defensive and distant, Sam amended.

"We can start where ever you want."

"Don't want to start," Crowley mumbled.

"We are having this conversation. I just want to make it easier for you."

"You start," Crowley told him.

"The other day, when I woke you up, what were you dreaming about?"

Crowley flinched and shook his head.

Sam started to scoot closer and Crowley tensed. Slowly, Sam admonished himself. Whatever had happened Crowley was reacting like a wounded animal. He was going to have to be very cautious with his movements and tone. Crowley seemed to do better when they were in close proximity but getting there was going to be difficult. You didn't startle a wounded animal unless you wanted to be attacked.

"You told me to suggest a starting point Crowley," Sam said softly.

"Not there."

"Okay. So how about we start with your nap earlier?"

Crowley's arms tightened around his legs and he began rocking back and forth slowly.

"Crowley," Sam asked quietly.

"I..."

"You know you can tell me anything right?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I don't want..."

"To say what really happened earlier?"

"No, I do want to say that!"

"Okay," Sam replied calmly. "Then start there."

"Dean," Crowley simply stated.

Sam worked to control his tone. "What about Dean?"

Crowley shook his head.

"What happened earlier Crowley?"

"Dean... I... I just wanted..."

Sam took a deep breath and let it out. "You wanted to what?"

"Practice," Crowley whispered.

"Practice what?"

"Please don't be mad."

"I won't be."

"I need to practice."

"Practice what Crowley?"

"Healing."

Oh, was the only thing Sam could think for a few seconds. Of course that's what he had meant.

"Mad?"

"No," Sam answered honestly. He should have expected this. In retrospect he realized he should have been more suspicious than he was when Dean had sent him for groceries.

"I'm not mad Crowley. Promise."

Crowley gave a small nod but continued rocking slowly.

"How did it go?"

"Good. I think."

"You think?"

"I healed the cut."

"Nice."

"Then I passed out."

Sam instantly straightened.

"I guess they put me in my room after that," Crowley continued.

Crowley passed out from healing a cut and Dean hadn't told him? Suddenly Sam remembered how nervous Cass had looked. Cass had known and hadn't said anything either.

"Did it hurt as much this time?" Stupid question, Sam thought. Crowley had passed out so something major had happened.

"Actually no, but I didn't try it on Castiel this time."

"Dean?"

Crowley nodded.

"So what happened?"

Crowley shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know. I just got really tired afterward." Crowley paused for a moment. "But I did heal the cut," he added.

"Nice," Sam repeated.

Sam inched slightly closer. This time Crowley didn't seem to notice.

"So they put you in your room?"

"Yeah. I mean I guess. I wasn't really awake for that part," Crowley stated dismissively.

"And you didn't want to tell me because you didn't want me to be mad?"

"No, I wanted to tell you."

Sam groaned inwardly. "Dean didn't," Sam guessed.

"Yeah," Crowley affirmed.

"I'm not mad, okay?"

Crowley remained silent and Sam frowned.

"Crowley?"

"You got mad the last time."

"I know. Actually I meant to apologize for that."

The rocking slowed.

"I was upset because I want to help you and it seemed like I wasn't making any progress."

The rocking stopped.

"I want to make sure you know the value of life, including your own. I didn't understand why you would want to do some thing that hurt that much."

Slowly Crowley turned to face him.

"Dean found me and told me off for not having more faith in you," Sam said with a small smile. The look on Crowley's face was totally worth it. "He was right, you know? I should have tried to see it from your perspective."

Crowley bit his bottom lip.

"The... The nightmare. From when you woke me up," Crowley stated haltingly.

Sam relaxed and tried to appear as non-threatening as possible.

Crowley looked away and began rocking again.

"I was dreaming of when I first became a demon," Crowley whispered.

Sam had to work hard not to flinch. He had no idea what happened to new demons but it stood to reason that it wasn't pleasant.

"I'm sorry."

No response. Honestly had he really expected one? He hated to ask but he needed more information to put the pieces together. "Do you dream about it often?"

"Sometimes."

"Sometimes often?"

"Yeah."

"Sometimes not so much?"

"More now. With the human blood fighting the demon blood in me."

Sam couldn't stop the flinch this time.

"I am so sorry about that Crowley."

Crowley shook his head and continued rocking.

"I mean it. I never meant to make you go through this."

"Not your fault."

"How is it not my fault?"

"You needed a demon. I am a demon." Crowley stopped rocking. "Or was?"

"Doesn't matter," Sam told him. "No one deserves to feel like you do right now."

"I do."

"Not even you Crowley," Sam told him firmly. "Was that what you were dreaming about earlier?"

Crowley jerked his head sideways to glare at him. "None of your business," Crowley growled.

Sam stared, dumbfounded by the sudden anger.

"I will not talk about that!"

"Okay," Sam told Crowley. "We don't have to discuss that right now."

"Ever!"

"Okay," Sam repeated.

Crowley jerked his head back the other direction and began rocking again. Whatever the dream had been was worse then when he was a newly turned demon. Sam was having problems processing that.

"Ever," Crowley repeated quietly."

"Not unless you ever want to talk about it," Sam assured him.

Crowley shook his head.

Sam reached out and lightly placed a hand on Crowley's arm.

Crowley flinched.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

Crowley hugged his legs more tightly and didn't respond. Sam felt the small trembles and frowned. Sitting up slightly he tried to get a better look at Crowley's face but couldn't. "Crowley?"

No response.

"Please look at me?"

Crowley shook his head and jerked his arm away from Sam's touch.

"I'm sorry if I brought up some thing that upset you."

Sam could finally see the trembling.

"Hey, you okay?"

Crowley shook his head. Sam reached out again and placed his hand on Crowley's arm. This time Crowley didn't try to shove it away. The trembling was getting worse. Sam pulled his legs underneath him and sat on them. Carefully he moved his hand to Crowley's back. Crowley seemed to lean into the embrace.

"Shh, it's okay," he soothed.

Crowley shook his head again and Sam could feel the tell-tale signs of crying. Seriously? What could make Crowley that upset? Sam adjusted them until the first arm was wrapped around Crowley. He leaned closer until he was pressed against Crowley's side and put his other arm around him.

"Shh, I've got you."

Those words seemed to destroy what little resistance Crowley had left. Before Sam knew what was happening Crowley wrapped his arms around Sam and leaned into his chest. Pressing his head against Sam's shoulder Crowley finally broke down completely. Sam was completely at a loss. He had no clue how to proceed. He settled for rubbing Crowley's back with one hand and holding onto Crowley's forearm with the other hand. Sam began murmuring any and every soothing thing he could think of to say.

.

Sam lay there staring at the demon currently clinging onto his arm. When Crowley had broken down he had muttered several things. Nothing he said helped Sam understand anything more now then he had before the break down. If he was being honest most of what Crowley said deepened the mystery further. Sam used the hand Crowley wasn't gripping to brush his fingertips over Crowley's brow. There was a soft knock on his door and Sam glanced to the arm Crowley had in a death grip. Damn it! The door creaked open and Sam turned to see Cass in the doorway. He used his free hand to motion Cass into the room. As Cass approached the bed Sam raised a finger to his lips. Cass nodded in comprehension.

"How is he," Cass whispered.

"Not sure. Better I hope. Why didn't you tell me about him healing Dean?"

Cass winced. "I wanted to tell you. Dean didn't think it would be a good idea."

"Should have known," Sam grumbled.

Crowley let out a low whine. Sam turned back and ran his fingers over Crowley's temple. "Shh. I'm still here. Shh," he murmured.

Crowley adjusted his grip on Sam's arm and snuggled closer. Sam continued to soothe Crowley until he seemed to relax. Breathing a sigh of relief he turned back to Cass. Cass stared at him uncomfortably and Sam knew there was something else Cass wasn't telling him. "What aren't you telling me?"

"I promised I wouldn't."

"Cass," Sam hissed.

"I promised him Sam."

"I swear, if has anything to do with his dreams you better tell me now."

Cass frowned. "I don't think it does."

"You don't think?"

"I don't know what he dreams about."

"Just tell me Cass."

Cass glanced to Crowley before looking back to Sam.

"Cass."

"Crowley..."

"Cass. Now."

Cass sighed. "Crowley has feelings for you. Please don't tell him I told you."

Sam frowned in confusion. Feelings? He turned back to Crowley. Actually that would explain a lot of things. Not everything but it did explain a lot. His mind flashed back to when he asked where Crowley wanted to sit for the injection. The hesitation. The discomfort. He turned back to Cass. "You should have told me earlier."

"I promised I wouldn't."

Sam shook his head.

"Sam," Crowley called out.

Sam turned back. Crowley was still sleeping. Sam put his hand on Crowley's cheek and stroked his thumb lightly over it. "Shh. I'm still here. I'm not leaving. Shh. You're safe." When Crowley finally relaxed slightly he turned back to Cass.

"Does Dean know?"

"Yeah."

"And neither of you told me?"

"I promised him I wouldn't."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I think I'm going to be here for a while. Can you hit the lights and make sure Dean doesn't knock later?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

Cass nodded and headed for the door.


	6. Chapter 6

Crowley shifted trying to stay comfortable. That was one of the best night of sleep he'd had in a long time. It was a touch warm but not too bad. He actually felt really good this morning. He shifted his head trying to snuggle into the pillow. It wasn't particularly soft was it, Crowley thought. Annnd it was moving. Crowley's eyes shot open and he found himself staring directly into Sam's eyes.

"I can explain," he exclaimed in a rush. "I, uh, I was just-"

"Crowley, stop."

Crowley's mouth snapped shut.

"It's okay, calm down. Everything is alright. I understand, okay?"

"You understand?"

"Another person helps to keep the dreams away, right?"

"The dreams?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," Crowley admitted.

"Any time you need help sleeping you're more than welcome to visit."

"You're okay with this?"

"I mean it's different. I haven't ever been in this position before, but yeah. I told I want to help you."

Crowley stared at Sam skeptically.

"You're not really used to that are you? People offering help you without expecting something?"

Crowley closed his eyes and turned his face into Sam's arm. He did not deserve this but damn it he wanted this. Wanted it more than anything else he had ever wanted before. He needed to leave before this went too far. Turning back he faced Sam again.

"We're going to be late for breakfast," Crowley told him.

"I can make more later."

"Sam, about last night."

"Thank you."

Crowley cocked his head slightly. "Thank you?"

"For trusting me enough to open up about some things."

"I'm not sure what to say to that," Crowley answered honestly.

Sam shrugged the best he could with Crowley still laying on one of his arms. "Then don't say anything."

"I should still probably get up."

"I can show you where the shower is if you like."

"Um, now that the chains are off..."

"Oh, right."

"Yeah."

"Um, I was hoping before we went for breakfast we could talk about some thing."

Crowley pressed his lips together and fought the urge to bite his bottom lip.

"I mean, you were honest with me so I wanted to be honest with you."

"Okay," Crowley replied cautiously.

"I haven't, I mean I've never, you know? Been with..."

Sam ran his hand through his hair. The subconscious gesture reminded Crowley of Dean.

"I just don't want to say this wrong," Sam told him.

"Maybe you should just say it bluntly," Crowley offered.

"I've never been with... someone... that way." Sam stammered. "I mean in that type of... relationship."

"Relationship," Crowley replied flatly. If that meddling angel opened his mouth about some thing he shouldn't have, so help him Lucifer.

"But I'm not necessarily opposed," Sam responded in a rush. "I'm just kind of... undecided?"

Crowley sat up slowly. "Undecided."

"Yeah. I mean, I guess what I want to say is, I need some time. You know, to process this."

Crowley crossed his arms. "And what exactly is it you need to 'process'?"

"Damn it Crowley. I know you understand what I mean. Help me out a little here. I'm trying. I mean I did everything I could to help you." Sam winced. "That came out wrong."

"Which one?"

"Which one what?"

"Which one of the two told you?"

"Does it matter? God, Crowley. I've never been with a guy before. Never thought about dating one ever. Yeah I looked at a few but not seriously. I'm sitting here trying to tell you I'm not against the idea of trying it with you and all you can do is get pissed? You know what, breakfast is starting to sound like a good idea." Sam stood and walked out of the bedroom shutting the door behind himself.

_Nice way to sabotage yourself. Very well done._

Crowley reached up and pressed his palms into his eyes.

_Couldn't take the chance he might actually fall for you, could we?_

"Stop it. Just stop it," he muttered.

\---------

"About time you showed up. Thought you were going to sleep the day away," Dean joked as Sam entered the kitchen.

"You should have told me," Sam shot back.

"Told you what?"

"About Crowley."

"I don't know what you're-"

"About Crowley's feelings for me, Dean. You should have told me."

"How did you find out?"

"Cass."

Dean turned to Cass. "You told him?"

"I had to Dean," Cass protested.

"You didn't have to, Cass. You could've kept your mouth shut."

"Was he supposed to keep quiet about Crowley healing you as well," Sam asked.

"Damn it Cass," Dean cursed.

"I didn't tell him about that," Cass replied defensively.

"Crowley told me."

"Friggin' demon."

"You lied when I asked about why he was sleeping."

"I did not. I told you he was probably tired. Which he obviously was or he wouldn't have fallen asleep!"

"He said he passed out!"

"Please stop this," Cass interjected.

"He started it," Dean snapped.

"Nice Dean. What are you, five?"

"Please stop," a quiet voice broke in from behind Sam.

Everyone fell silent and Sam turned to find Crowley standing at the entrance to the kitchen. Sam noted blood from a cut lip. Crowley hadn't even bothered to wipe it off before coming down. He frowned when he noted the blood dripping from Crowley's hand onto the kitchen floor.

"I'm sorry Dean. I told you I couldn't lie to Sam," Crowley stated quietly.

"You didn't have to lie, you could have kept your mouth shut," Dean grumbled.

"Lie of omission," Crowley whispered.

"You're bleeding," Sam said softly.

"I know. I, uh, punched your wall," Crowley answered. "I'll fix it though."

Sam took a few steps closer to Crowley and Crowley took a step back.

"Can I look at it?"

"I'd rather you didn't. I can heal it when I choose to with the chains off now. There's really no reason for you to check on it."

"Can you heal it now?"

Crowley bit his lip and the action reopened the cut.

Sam was completely lost on what he could do to fix this.

"Crowley," Cass whispered. "Please heal it now."

Crowley eyed Cass for a long moment.

"I really think you should heal your hand now. Please?"

Crowley raised his hand and inspected it briefly before dropping it. "Why bother?"

"Because it's upsetting Sam," Cass said quietly.

Crowley finally turned and met Sam's eyes.

"Please," Sam asked.

Crowley lifted his hand and shook his wrist. Instantly the hand was healed and the blood on the floor disappeared.

"Thank you," Sam told him.

Crowley nodded and dropped his eyes to the ground.

"If it's possible, I would like to talk to Castiel."

"Why," Dean asked instantly suspicious.

"Dean," Cass admonished. "I assume you mean in private?"

Crowley nodded.

"I'll be back," Cass stated.

\---------

Castiel stood and followed Crowley out of the kitchen. Neither spoke as they made their way up the stairs and down the hallway. Crowley stopped in front of the room Dean had assigned him and opened the door. Since Crowley made no move to enter Castiel went in first. The room held one bed, a desk and few empty bookshelves. "Not very cozy," Castiel noted.

"I don't really have any belongings."

"I'll see what I can do about getting you some things."

"Books," Crowley asked quietly.

"If you like. You realize they'll be regular books?"

"I do."

"I'll also see if I can get you a chair for the desk and a better bedspread."

"I don't get cold."

Castiel frowned. "That's not really the point. What did you want to talk about?"

"Sam."

"What about him?"

"I want him so much I almost can't take not being near him."

Castiel moved to the shelves and pretended to inspect them.

"I want him more than I've ever wanted anything else."

"I know," Castiel stated sadly. He had a sinking feeling he knew where this was headed.

"No one's ever been that nice to me. Not even while I was human. I don't deserve him but I want him. I never deserved a second chance. By all accounts he should have let Dean torture me and then knife me when they were done."

"That's not who Sam is."

"I know that! How do you think I know I don't deserve someone like him? He refuses to see me for what I am! I've tried to tell him repeatedly. He refuses to listen."

"What happened this morning," Castiel asked softly.

"He came onto me."

Castiel turned back to Crowley and cocked his head confused. "He did what?"

"Sam who's never even seriously thought of a relationship with another man, tried to insinuate there might be hope for us in the future."

"Is that not good?"

"Lucifer help me. How could it be a good thing. There's no way he was being serious. Even if he was ever to think of having a relationship with another man he definitely wouldn't pick me."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm a demon. I'm the King of Hell. _I'm what he hunts!_ "

"You're not right now," Castiel pointed out.

"Bloody hell even you can't be that dense. I'm a demon Castiel. And yes, so far, I am still the King of Hell. Name one thing about me that's worthy of Sam."

"Your honor, your dedication, your willingness to sacrifice yourself on his behalf. I could go on if you'd like."

"Too little too late. How soon you forget my past. Hundreds of years of lying, murdering, deceiving, willingness to turn on anyone if it would benefit me. _I_ could go on if _you'd_ like."

"That's not who you are right now-"

"Wrong! That's who I am all the time. Just because I'm drugged right now with human blood doesn't change who I am. _What_ I am!"

"I disagree."

"Then you're wrong."

"And Sam?"

"He's wrong as well."

"And Dean?"

"Pfft. Dean despises me."

"Oh? Is that why he didn't put the shackles back on you when he had the chance? Why he let you have a room instead of keeping you in the dungeon? Why he put you right next door to his baby brother? Because he despises you?"

"I cede the point. He doesn't despise me, he's just stupid."

"How bad is it?"

"Now what are you on about Castiel?"

"The fight for control between the human blood and the demon blood."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"When your power met my Grace I saw, Crowley. I felt the effects."

"Doesn't matter."

"It will to Sam."

"Why? To him I'm just someone else to save so he can appease his conscious. Nothing more."

"You know Sam better than that Crowley. You know if he offered you hope for a relationship, he meant it."

"He shouldn't," Crowley muttered finally sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I believe you."

Crowley raised his head to meet Castiel's eyes.

"I believe that when you look at yourself that's exactly what you see. Sam doesn't see that."

"Sam refuses to see it. That doesn't make it any less valid."

"It doesn't make Sam's view any less valid either."

Crowley dropped his gaze back to the floor.

"You're right," Castiel continued. "Sam's ignoring the bad for now and focusing on the good. It's what he does for everyone. He's not going to change that just because you don't want him to find the good in you."

"I don't have any."

"I disagree, but this isn't about how I see you Crowley."

Crowley shook his head.

"You wanted some thing?"

Crowley nodded. "If I stay I'll just mess up his life more."

"If you left he would track you down."

"I can't stay Castiel. If I left-"

"Sam would track you down and bring you back. He's more likely to get hurt trying to find you then if you stayed here."

"What do I do to keep him safe?"

"You accept that you can't. Accept it and do what you can to help him when he needs it. That's all you can do Crowley."

"He wants to know things I can't talk about."

Castiel sat down on the bed leaving some distance between him and Crowley to keep Crowley from being too uncomfortable. "Things?"

"Personal things."

"Has he pushed for you to talk about them."

"Not once," Crowley admitted with a sad smile. "What if I won't ever be able to tell him?"

"Then he'll wait forever. That's just Sam."

"See? I don't deserve that."

"Patience?"

"Among other things, yes."

"In all the time you've known the Winchesters have you ever known them to give up on something important to them?"

"I don't understand why he would pick me to be important to him."

Castiel shrugged. "He just did."

"I've spent my whole life using people that fell in love with me."

"You're afraid he's going to use you?"

Crowley gawked at Castiel. "Are you insane? Of course I'm not worried about that. No Castiel, I'm worried about him really falling in love."

"You're worried you might use him," Castiel said finally understanding.

"Just another way for him to get hurt."

"I can't tell you what to do Crowley."

"Tell me _something_ Castiel."

Castiel thought about what he could tell Crowley that might help. Finally he found two words he could use. "Trust Sam."

"I don't trust me."

"You don't have to trust yourself. Trust Sam."

Crowley nodded.

\---------

"I swear, if he does anything to Cass."

"Enough Dean."

"You saw what he did to himself."

"Yeah, like you never punched a wall before."

"He's a demon Sammy. To do that much damage he had to do more than hit a wall."

"Give it a rest. He's not going to hurt Cass. Geez Dean, if I didn't know better I'd swear you two were dating."

"You shut your mouth."

Before Sam could respond Cass came down the stairs.

"Well," Sam asked anxiously.

"Can I speak with you for a moment?"

"Not without me," Dean added.

"Not for this Dean," Cass insisted.

"Since when did we start keeping secrets?"

Cass lifted an eyebrow. "Since not everyone is comfortable sharing everything with everyone else," Cass stated.

Sam frowned and watched Dean. Dean crossed his arms as he stared at Cass. There was definitely more going on than he knew about. And Dean was angry Crowley wanted to keep a few secrets?

"Okay fine, but this comes back to bite us on the ass I'm blaming you," Dean told Cass.

Dean stormed off in the direction of the library and Sam followed Cass up the stairs. Cass seemed oddly distracted as they walked. He stopped at the top and Sam halted waiting on more information from Cass.

"Before you ask, I don't know any of the details. What I do know is he's terrified of someone or some thing. Terrified of it coming after him and any one of us here at the bunker. Especially you. He's desperate to flee so that whatever he's running from can't hurt any of us. I know the human blood is fighting with his demonic blood. The human blood injected in him doesn't survive long considering it's being injected into a 'dead body' for all intents and purposes. It's the demonic blood that causes the symptoms as it tries to reassert control over the body. He needs to inject human blood before the symptoms start. Every time he waits too long we take a chance that the demonic blood could get more of a foothold." Cass paused, raised an eyebrow and waited.

"Got it," Sam acknowledged. "Blood early and often so the demonic blood doesn't take over."

"Yes," Cass agreed.

"Also some big bad is after Crowley."

"I'm not sure if that's true."

"You just said-"

"I said he believes it to be true. I didn't say it was true. That's not anything we discussed directly. I think he might have touched on it indirectly but I can't be sure."

"Then how do you know that's what he believes?"

"It's a long story. Simply put, when he and I practiced healing I had to use my Grace to get him to quit. For a moment we connected and I knew what he knew. More precisely, I knew what he believed to be true."

"Got it."

"Also you should be aware that he's really insecure. He doesn't believe he's capable of or deserving of being loved by you."

Sam frowned. "I never said love."

"I know. Hush and listen Sam. He thinks he's done too much bad to be good enough for someone like you. He honestly believes that you're lying when you say you might give this relationship a chance. Crowley believes he will never be more than the worst qualities of his demonic blood. Remember these are insecurities. You're going to have to be careful if you discuss them at all. He'll probably be very defensive."

"Understood."

"The best advice I can give you? Be honest and don't give up on him."

"Got it."

"I have to go find Dean now."

"Hey Cass?"

"Yeah?"

"Is there some thing between you two?"

Cass stood as still as a statue.

"Yeah, never mind. We can talk about it some other time."

"Yeah," Cass agreed. "Some other time."

"Right." Sam turned and headed for his bedroom. He had the answer he needed. If there was nothing between Dean and Cass, Cass would have denied everything. The fact that Cass couldn't deny it was proof enough for Sam. When Sam reached Crowley's room he paused. He hadn't asked which room Crowley and Cass had used. Solely because he had arrived at Crowley's door first Sam knocked on the door. The door opened and Crowley backed up to give Sam enough space to enter the room. As soon as Sam was in Crowley closed the door.

"Hey," Sam began cautiously.

"How much did the angel blab about?"

Sam smiled. After a few seconds the smile faded. "Cass told me you didn't believe I meant what I said."

"Pretty sure I told you the same thing this morning."

Sam nodded to himself. "Yeah. He also said you don't think you can be a good person because of your demonic blood."

Crowley turned his back to Sam. Obviously that statement had hit a nerve. Sam walked closer to Crowley and waited. The longer he stood there the more it hurt to watch. Unable to stop himself Sam extended an arm and carefully wrapped it around Crowley. Crowley jumped at the touch and growled. Sam put his other arm around Crowley and pulled him back against his chest; wrapping Crowley firmly in his arms.

"Let go."

"No."

"Damn it Sam, let me go!"

"No," Sam repeated.

He refused to raise his voice. 'Be honest and don't give up on him,' Cass had said.

"Sam," Crowley warned.

"I'm not letting go."

Crowley jerked against his hold. Obviously Crowley wasn't drawing on any of his powers or he'd definitely be able to break free. Sam took comfort in that thought. If he had assessed this wrong Crowley would have already thrown him off by now.

"I'm here Crowley. I'm not leaving you."

"Damn you Sam Winchester!"

"Yep, but I'm still not leaving."

Crowley stilled. "You don't understand."

"I don't have to understand to believe in you."

"You shouldn't," Crowley yelled.

"I do," Sam whispered.

"Damn you, let go!"

"No."

"Yes! Let go!"

"Not. Leaving."

"Go away!"

"No."

"Please!"

"No, Crowley."

Crowley's struggles lessened more and more. Eventually they became less struggling and more shaking than anything else. Sam continued to hold onto Crowley as tightly as he could. Leaning forward he rested his head against Crowley's shoulder. Eventually Crowley started twisting. Sam held Crowley still until it became obvious Crowley was only trying to turn and not escape. Sam allowed him enough leeway to complete the turn and no more. The second they were facing each other Crowley wrapped his arms around Sam. Sam re-tightened his arms around Crowley.

"Shh. It's okay. I'm not leaving you."

"Please?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"I don't deserve you."

"Doesn't matter. I'm not leaving."

"Sam."

"It's okay. I'm here, it's okay."

"Moose," Crowley whimpered.

"Shh. It's okay, Crowley."

"Please."

"Please what?"

No response.

"Talk to me Crowley."

"Stay. Please."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"No, stay tonight." Crowley raised his head and looked into Sam's eyes. "Nothing has to happen I swear. Just please stay, please?"

"Promise."

"All night?"

"Yes."

Crowley lowered his head and burrowed into Sam's chest again.

"Hey, come on."

Crowley shook his head.

"I'm only moving us to the bed. That's all."

"The bed?"

"Yeah."

"Do I have to let go?"

"Never."

\---------

"You're still angry?"

"I'm not angry, Dean. I'm just disappointed."

"I'm sorry Cass I'm just not ready."

Castiel sighed. "I don't like feeling like this."

"I don't like everyone knowing my business."

"I'm not talking about telling everyone, just Sam."

"I'm not ready."

"When?"

"I don't know. Damn it Cass don't push this. Not right now."

He watched Dean turn and storm out of the library.

\---------Later that evening---------

Damn he needed to get some sleep soon. Out of habit Sam turned his head right to check the time. No clock. Sam shook his head softly. Come to think of it, almost no anything else either. He really should have checked in on the room before now. Tilting his head he peered down at Crowley. At least Crowley seemed to be sleeping fairly peacefully for now. Curled up against him Crowley had one arm flung over Sam's stomach and his head rested on top of Sam's chest. Somehow Crowley manged to look much younger when he was asleep. Sam smiled at the image.

The smile faded when he realized he still needed to make a decision. When he had told Crowley he'd never thought about being with a guy before that had been a lie. He actually had thought about it but honestly he never really saw himself going through with the decision to date another man. How would Crowley take it if he ended up turning Crowley down? Sam felt a dull ache at the thought of hurting Crowley. He was going to have to decide what it was that drew him to Crowley in the first place. If it was nothing more than the desire to protect him the relationship would be doomed before it began. On the other hand Crowley was generally pretty good at protecting himself.

.

Yawning, Sam stretched until he heard his back pop. He rubbed his hands over his arms briskly to dispel the light chill. Where's my blanket, Sam thought sleepily. Opening his eyes he sat up and began to search for the missing blanket. Something's wrong his eyes tried to tell him. His brain refused to process the information immediately. Sam scanned the room looking for what his senses were trying to tell him. Either someone had redecorated his room or...

"Crowley?"

No response. Sam turned to the other side of the bed but there was still no Crowley. Damn it. Getting out of the bed Sam headed for his room to grab a change of clothes. He idly wondered if maybe Crowley had gone down to breakfast but dismissed the idea. Crowley would have woken him first, Sam was sure of that. Still, checking in with Dean or Cass first might help him locate Crowley. Changing he decided to skip the shower for now. He wanted to find Crowley first. Leaving his room he took the stairs two at a time and headed for the kitchen. Dean and Cass looked up as he entered.

"Crowley," he asked.

"Library," Cass told him.

"Thanks."

Sam started to head for the library.

"Sam," Cass called out.

Sam stopped and turned back.

"Take these with you."

Standing Cass handed him two plates of food and two forks.

"Make sure he eats," Cass ordered.

Sam gave a nod and took off for the library once again. As he neared the library he slowed and finally came to a stop near the doorway. Taking a few steps he glanced inside. Crowley sat at one of the long tables with several books spread out around him. Sam watched as Crowley picked up a pen and wrote something in a notebook. Shoving the book away Crowley grabbed one of the other open books and began reading through it. Sam cleared his throat and Crowley jumped turning to the doorway instantly.

"Hey," Crowley greeted.

Sam walked in and put the plates down on the table. "What are you working on?"

"This and that." Crowley pulled a plate closer and began eating.

Sam reached out and placed a hand on the open notebook. Glancing to Crowley Sam cocked an eyebrow and waited. Crowley waved a 'go ahead' gesture with the hand holding the fork and continued eating. Sam drug the notebook across the table. Twisting it until it was right-side up he inspected it. The notes covered several topics running the gambit from witchcraft and demons to cooking and Sheetrock of all things. Sam blinked several times trying to make sense of the notes. Cooking? Sam shook his head in disbelief.

"You should eat."

Sam looked up. "Huh?"

"You should eat before it gets colder."

"Oh."

Sam closed the notebook and moved it away. Pulling his plate closer he picked up his fork and began eating. In between bites Sam occasionally glanced over to Crowley. Crowley pulled a book closer and skimmed it while he continued eating. Sam cocked his head trying to read some of the words. Crowley glanced up and eyed him. Sam opened his mouth but before he could say anything Crowley flipped the book and pushed it across the table. Looking down Sam realized it was a book on home repair.

"Um, Crowley?"

"I was researching how to fix the hole in your wall if I didn't use my powers," he said quietly.

"Why wouldn't you just use your powers?"

Staring at his plate Crowley poked at his food with the fork and shrugged.

"Hey, it's fine. Maybe we could work on it together?"

Crowley glanced up and stared at him looking completely surprised at the suggestion. Pressing his lips together Crowley lowered his gaze back to his plate and picked at his food some more. "I'd rather do it myself."

"Because you put the hole in it?"

Crowley nodded.

"If that's what you want. If you change your mind the offer stands."

Crowley nodded again.

Both men went back to eating in silence. When they finished Sam collected the plates and dropped them in the kitchen. He returned to the library and sat down across from Crowley once again. Inspecting the two books Crowley had in front of him Sam realized Crowley was alternating between cooking tips and wards against witches. Closing the book dealing with wards Crowley exchanged it for a book on theoretical spell craft.

Time passed as Crowley continued exchanging books and taking notes. Sometimes Crowley would pick up one of the books and lean back in the chair while he read. Other times Crowley would open a third book and cross check some bit of information. Occasionally Crowley would get up, return a few books and come back with others. It was fascinating to watch. The range of topics Crowley ran through surprised Sam. He found himself trying to guess which subject Crowley would pick next. As Sam watched him jot a few more notes Crowley's hand jerked slightly. Crowley took a deep breath, released it and continued writing. Sam frowned.

"Crowley?"

Crowley waved him off and went to grab another book from the pile. Still frowning Sam continued to watch as Crowley researched things. When Crowley went to grab a new book he dropped it. Muttering a curse Crowley grabbed the book with both hands and placed it in front of himself. Sam reached across the table and placed a hand on top of the book. Crowley raised his head and met Sam's eyes.

"It's time for break."

Crowley frowned.

"You need blood," Sam told him bluntly.

Crowley bit his lip. Finally he dropped his eyes and nodded.

"Come on, the kit's still in my room."

\---------

As they entered the room Sam stopped at the nightstand to grab the kit. Crowley walked across the room and sat in the chair at Sam's desk. When Sam finally turned around he watched Crowley with a strange look. Crowley fought the urge to duck his head. A shiver ran through him and Crowley did his best to ignore it. He straightened self-consciously and waited.

"Why the chair?"

"I just feel better in the chair."

"Doesn't look that way," Sam observed.

This time Crowley did duck his head away from Sam's gaze. "I'm more uncomfortable on your bed."

"Really?"

"I can't stop some of the t-things my brain thinks about when we're in b-bed together." Damned withdrawals, Crowley cursed. While he was at it he cursed himself for being weak and unable to control the withdrawals as well. He started when Sam placed a hand on his shoulder. Looking up he instantly sought Sam's eyes. Beautiful, he thought to himself.

"Ready?"

Crowley nodded, too lost in Sam's eyes to speak. Sam gave a half-smile and Crowley couldn't help but smile back. Sam turned to find a good place for the needle and Crowley followed with his eyes. He barely felt the prick of the needle. How did he ever end up with someone like Sam Winchester taking care of him? True Sam was good looking to him, very good looking, but it was also more than that. What really captured his attention was Sam's empathy. He would never understand why Sam decided he was a worthy recipient of that empathy. No matter how long this lasted he knew he would always be grateful for whatever he had done right that had led to this.

"You're awful quiet," Sam noted.

"Huh?" Crowley blinked in surprise finally aware that he had been staring.

"I said you're being awful quiet. I was worried it had some thing to do with the blood."

"Oh. No, I'm good. It takes effect fairly fast," Crowley informed Sam.

Sam's eyes shifted and his head tilted as he seemed to finally notice some thing. Crowley didn't bother looking. He already knew what it was that had caught Sam's attention. Crowley felt the guilt rise as Sam finally noticed the 'hole'. Sighing to himself Crowley ran through the information he had found so far for the repairs. He had caused the damage he would repair it himself. As penance he refused to allow himself to use his powers to repair the wall.

"Wow," Sam whispered.

"Yeah," Crowley agreed.

"How did you not break anything?"

Crowley frowned. "I did. The wall," Crowley stated confused.

"I mean how did you not break anything in your hand."

"Oh."

Sam reached down and placed his fingertips on the top of Crowley's hand. Crowley watched Sam run his fingers over the skin lightly. He was completely unable to tear his eyes away from the sight. Another shiver ran through Crowley. The fingers stilled.

"Hey, you alright?"

"Huh," Crowley replied distracted, still staring at Sam's fingers on his hand.

"Crowley?"

Somehow Crowley finally tore his eyes away from the sight and looked up to Sam's face.

"You okay?"

"Yes?"

"You sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be," he asked honestly confused.

"Just seemed like the shakes haven't fully left."

Oh. Yeah that.

"I think they're gone now," Crowley stated. He really did not want to have to explain that last little shiver.


	7. Chapter 7

"You can't be serious."

"You tell him or I will."

"Come on Cass, don't do this."

"I don't understand why you don't want to tell Sam."

"I don't want to tell _anyone_."

"I won't keep lying to Sam about what I'm doing just so we can spend time together Dean."

"Don't push this Cass."

"Is it me?"

"Oh come on, don't do that."

"What?"

"You know what I mean."

"No, I really don't. What else am I supposed to think?"

"You're supposed to think-"

Dean was cut off by the ringing of his cell phone. Growling he fished it out of his pocket and checked the I.D. "I have to take this. We'll finish this conversation later," Dean told Cass.

\--------

"Sammy!"

What now, Crowley thought as he heard Dean yelling for his brother through the closed door. Sam and he were having a pleasant, if useless, conversation and for once Crowley wasn't feeling quite so down on himself. Of course Dean would pick now to barge in on them. The door to Sam's room swung open and Dean rushed inside followed by Castiel.

"We got trouble," Dean announced.

"What kind of trouble," Sam asked.

"Knight of Hell troubles."

Crowley's muscles went rigid at those words.

"Abaddon called. She gave me two names and a set of coordinates."

"Anyone we know?"

"Coordinates: 44.053051 by -123.127860. Names, Irv Franklin and Tracy Bell."

"Irv we know, who's Tracy?"

"Not a clue but if we don't show up she's going to kill them."

"Let them die," Crowley growled.

"Crowley," Sam admonished.

"You can't go, it's a trap."

"Of course it's a trap," Dean agreed in a condescending tone.

"And you're just going to walk right into it?"

"Yep, with guns blazing."

"No," Crowley stated.

"Oh we're going," Dean declared.

"We have to go," Sam told him.

"They're probably already dead. There's no reason to put yourself in that much danger."

"I have to Crowley," Sam repeated.

"Then I'm going with you."

"The hell you are," Dean stated.

"You're going to need back up. She won't expect me."

"Because you're not going to be there."

"The hell I'm not," Crowley shot back.

"Stop it," Sam interrupted. "Both of you."

"Crowley's right, you will need back up," Castiel interjected.

"You're not going either Cass," Dean growled.

"Hold on," Crowley interrupted. "If Castiel's not going than I'm definitely coming with you two."

"No." Dean looked to Cass. "You need to preserve what little Grace you have left." He turned to Crowley. "And I still don't trust you any farther than I could throw you."

Crowley turned to Sam. "Don't go," he begged.

"I have to," Sam told him.

"Then at least take Castiel."

"We can't do that."

"Moose," Crowley whispered.

"I'll be careful," Sam assured him.

Crowley shook his head. Reaching forward Sam placed his hands gently against either side of Crowley's face and drew him forward. He didn't stop until their foreheads touched and they were looking into each other's eyes. "I'll come back. I promise."

Crowley bit his lower lip.

Sam brushed his thumbs lightly over Crowley's cheekbones. "I promise, okay?"

Crowley nodded.

"I'll be safe."

"Better be," Crowley whispered. "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Sam hesitated suddenly looking uncomfortable.

"It's okay, I know you don't feel the same. I just needed to say it before you left."

Sam nodded. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Nothing to be sorry for. Now go while I can let you."

Sam ran his thumbs over Crowley's cheek bones one more time before he backed away. Sam glanced to Dean who gave him a sharp nod. Crowley watched as the two brothers walked out of the room. Sam spared one last look to Crowley before finally shutting the bedroom door.

"They'll be fine," Castiel said quietly.

"Even you don't believe that," Crowley replied.

"Want to do some thing to try to take our minds off of this?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Wait."

.

"Dean is going to kill me," Castiel muttered.

"Better than if he were to end up dead," Crowley informed the angel.

"Which way?"

The coordinates had led them to a ghost town on the outskirts of Eugene, Oregon. Slowly Crowley inspected the area. Dean and his Sam were here and needed help. He had to find them. Suddenly a gun rang out and Crowley's head snapped in the direction of the shot. Both men took off running without a word to the other. Please don't be Sam, please don't be Sam, Crowley begged. Spying an abandoned diner Crowley grabbed Castiel's arm to stop the angel.

"You check there, I'll keep looking around out here."

With a nod Castiel ported into the diner. Crowley headed around the diner to the front when more shots rang out breaking the eerie silence. Rounding the corner Crowley skidded to a stop and dropped to the ground. Not far in front of him he spotted Abaddon and Dean. He would be no use to Dean if he ended up dead. As he watched, Dean pulled out an angel blade and lunged at Abaddon. Blocking the attack Abaddon grabbed Dean's arm and twisted until the blade went flying. Crowley eyed the blade as it spun through the air and noted the exact location of where it landed. Without a second thought he blinked to behind the tree nearest the knife. Eyeing the knife Crowley held a hand out flat. Instantly Crowley focused his power, _appareo_. The knife disappeared briefly before manifesting in his hand.

"I want Crowley. Or what's left of him," Abaddon's voice rang out.

"Yeah? What's in it for me," Dean asked.

"I let you die. You give me Crowley's head and I will snap your neck, quick and clean. You won't feel a thing, trust me," Abaddon retorted.

Bitch, Crowley thought. The knife wouldn't kill her but maybe it would slow her down. _Eo ire itum_. Blinking behind Abaddon he brought the knife up aiming for her throat. Barely before the knife sank into her flesh Abaddon turned, grabbed his arm and used his own momentum to force him to stab himself. Crying out in pain Crowley dropped to the ground. Just then there was a brilliant white light and the windows in the diner shattered outward.

"An angel," Abaddon asked shocked.

"What, you think we'd roll up to this mouse trap without some backup," Dean quipped.

"Next time we meet, you're dead," Abaddon hissed to Crowley before she blinked out.

"Crowley? Hey, stay with me."

"Dean," Crowley panted.

"I'm here. What do you need?"

Reaching up he grabbed Dean's shirt with his good arm and pulled him closer. "Diner."

Letting go Crowley dropped back to the ground and struggled to catch his breath.

\--------

Dean took off running. If Crowley was here it wasn't hard to guess the angel responsible for blowing out the windows in the diner. Please let Cass be alright he prayed. Running he crossed the distance in almost no time flat. Without bothering to slow down he slammed into the door breaking the latch. The door swung open inward. "Cass!"

"Over here," Sam called.

Turning at the sound of Sam's voice Dean stopped dead at the site of Cass unmoving.

"Is he..."

"Dean," Cass managed weakly.

"Cass," Dean whispered. Walking over he dropped to his knees next to his angel. Placing one hand under Cass' head Dean used the other to card through his angel's hair.

"Dean."

"Shh, don't talk. You're going to be fine Cass."

"Crowley," Cass questioned.

"You brought Crowley," Sam asked.

Cass shook his head slowly. "He brought me."

Sam grabbed Dean's jacket and jerked him forward. Dean had to work not to fall over on top of Cass. "Damn it Sam!"

"Where's Crowley?"

Dean looked back down to Cass and swallowed hard. If It was Cass that was missing? He understood exactly how Sam had to feel. Twisting slightly Dean pointed out the front door with the hand not under Cass' head. Sam released him and took off running. Turning back Dean returned his attention to Cass.

\--------

Laying on the ground Crowley shivered. Clutching the angel blade in his right hand he pulled himself closer to the tree. So cold, he needed blood. _Sam's_ blood, only Sam's. He couldn't bear the the thought of anyone else's blood inside of him anymore. Can't think about that right now, Crowley told himself. He pulled himself up into a sitting position and leaned back against the tree breathing heavily.

"Crowley?"

Sam?

"Crowley? Answer me!"

"Sam," Crowley called weakly.

"Damn it Crowley, answer me!"

Clearing his throat he tried again.

"Sam." A coughing fit hit him and Crowley doubled over in pain.

"Crowley?" Sam finally came into view. "Jesus-. What did you do to yourself?"

Suddenly he could feel Sam's hands gripping his shoulders.

"Ow," Crowley managed between coughs.

"What happened? Where are you hurt?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Don't move," Sam told him sliding his hands down away from the shoulders.

"Moose," Crowley whispered affectionately.

"Shh, don't talk."

"Listen. Have to tell you."

"Shh."

"Listen," Crowley managed before another coughing fit overtook him.

"Sam?"

Crowley looked over at the sound of his Dean's voice. Dean stood a few feet behind them with Cass leaning against his side. So the angel was alright, he noted. Good.

"Heal him," Sam ordered.

"No," Crowley whispered. "Listen."

"Shh, Crowley," Sam soothed.

"Love you."

"Shh, you'll be fine. Cass will heal you and you'll be fine."

"Can't," Crowley whispered. "Grace."

"He's right Sam," Dean told him.

"No! You can't just let him die!"

"Sam," Dean scolded gently.

"Dean," Castiel whispered. "I have to do it."

"No," Dean ordered.

Crowley tried to tell Castiel it wasn't worth it but was wracked by another coughing fit.

"No. The cut, it's not that bad. You should be alright."

"Internal injuries," Castiel said quietly.

Crowley nodded.

"I have to try, Dean."

"No. You can't you don't have enough Grace."

"Moose, don't let him."

"I promised you I wouldn't give up on you. Don't you dare give up on me! You hear me Crowley?"

"Thank you... For everything."

"No. No no no. Don't you dare give up on me. Not now!"

Crowley blinked a few times and suddenly the angel was kneeling in front of him.

"Crowley," Castiel whispered.

"Hey. When did you... get down here?" So cold. Need Sam.

"Lie still Crowley." Castiel placed his hand over Crowley's shoulder.

"Dean," Crowley reminded the angel.

"Close your eyes Crowley," Castiel ordered.

Crowley shook his head. "Moose."

Castiel nodded in understanding. "Sam? Move over here please."

Crowley smiled when he could see his Sam once again. "Beautiful," he whispered.

"Take his hand please."

"Mm... Warm," Crowley murmured when he felt the warmth of Sam's hand touch his hand.

\--------

"Hey."

"Tracy," Dean greeted. "Sorry, didn't hear you."

Tracy's eyes went to the group on the ground before them. "Moose," she asked.

"Mine," Crowley growled before lapsing into a coughing fit once more.

"Please don't call him that," Dean whispered.

Tracy nodded. "Are they..."

"It's complicated," Dean told her without taking his eyes off of Cass.

"Dean," Cass called out without looking back.

"Yeah?"

"If anything happens to me, pray to Hannah."

"Nothing's going to happen to you Cass."

"Promise me."

" _If_ anything happens, I will. _If_."

Cass nodded. "He'll need blood too. A lot."

"As much as he needs," Sam replied instantly.

"Dean, watch your brother. Don't let him give too much."

"Got it," Dean told his angel.

"Blood," Tracy whispered questioningly.

Dean shushed her and continued watching intently. If anything happened to Cass...

\--------

_"Dean."_

_"Shh Castiel."_

_"Dean," he called again. He had to find Dean._

_"He is safe Castiel. Rest."_

_Resting sounded good. Too good. No, he couldn't rest until he found Dean. He had to keep searching. What if Dean needed him?_

_"Rest," the voice repeated._

_He had a vague suspicion he should know that voice but couldn't seem to place it._

\--------

"How is he," Dean asked.

"Resting better," Hannah responded.

"Can you help him?"

"Yes and no."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"He'll survive, but he probably won't remain an angel."

"So, what, you're saying he'll be human?"

"Yes."

"I'm good with that."

"And him," Hannah inquired.

"Cass? What about him?"

"Have you ever thought about how he's going to feel about it?"

Dean resisted the urge to growl at the woman. "Just go help Crowley."

"I am not helping the demon."

"Oh yes you are."

"No, and you don't have the power to force me to help it."

" _Him_ ," Dean corrected. " _He_ is not an _it_."

" _It_ is to me," she retorted.

"Leave," Dean growled. "Just get out."

.

Walking down to his brother's room Dean stared at the door. Eventually he would have to enter. After the first day they'd discovered Sammy couldn't be trusted not to donate too much blood too quickly. Dean had held onto the needles since then. Sammy had thrown a bitch-fit but finding his brother unconscious on the floor once was still one too many times for Dean. Raising his hand Dean knocked softly on the door before letting himself inside. Unsurprisingly Sammy was awake.

"About time you showed," Sam hissed quietly.

"I'm actually early," Dean responded tiredly.

"Cass said a lot of blood."

"He also said make sure you don't over do it," Dean reminded his brother. "Any change?"

"No. With Cass?"

Dean shook his head. "She said Cass should be alright though."

"Did she say when she was going to check Crowley?"

Dean struggled to come up with something to say that wouldn't upset his brother further.

"She's not is she?"

"He'll be alright Sam."

"This is my fault."

"Cass and Crowley showed up on their own."

"If we'd taken them with us we could have protected them."

Dean scrubbed his face with both hands. God he couldn't take this right now. "Give me your arm," he ordered Sam.

Sam held out his right arm and Dean inspected it. "The other one."

"The other arm's worse Dean."

It would be, Dean thought. Being right handed Sammy would have drawn most of the blood from his left arm. Sighing Dean rechecked for a good vein to use. "We need another donor," he noted.

"No," Sam shouted.

He should have expected the reaction. Ever since everything happened Sammy had become extremely protective of Crowley. He still denied having feelings for the demon but he wasn't fooling anyone. Finally finding a vein he felt comfortable using Dean got to work extracting the blood. When he finished he handed the needle to his brother. Sam still refused to let anyone else inject Crowley. When Sam was done he held the needle out behind himself. Taking the needle Dean replaced it.

"Get some sleep," he told his brother.

Sam waved him off and Dean finally left. As he started to make his way back to his room he stopped at the room next door to Sam's. Staring Dean couldn't bring himself to open the door. He knew all too well what the inside of that room looked like. Shaking his head he continued the five more doors down to his own room. Instead of going inside he leaned against the wall. God he couldn't do this. It was hard enough when it was just Sam. Then Cass had wormed his way into his heart. Somehow Crowley had managed to make Dean worry about him as well. Suddenly from inside his room there was a loud crash. Startled out of his thoughts Dean jumped. He quickly turned and rushed into the room only to find Cass on the floor.

"Cass!"

Rushing over he knelt down to check on his angel.

Cass groaned.

"Shh it's alright. We're home."

"Home?"

"Yeah."

"Sam?"

"Sam and Crowley are both here."

Cass nodded and attempted to sit up.

"Wait, let me help you."

Kneeling down Dean let Cass get a grip on him before grabbing onto Cass' arms and helping him sit.

"The bed," Cass told him.

"On three." Setting his legs Dean positioned his hands for a better hold. "One, two, three." Dean pulled until they were standing. Cass stumbled slightly and Dean pulled the angel against him. Wrapping his arms around Cass Dean just stood there holding him.

"Dean?"

"God, I was so worried," he mumbled into Cass' neck.

"How long was I out?"

"Three days."

"How long was Crowley out?"

Dean shook his head. "He hasn't woken up yet."

"Can I sit now?"

"Yeah, sorry. I just missed holding you."

Dean half walked, half carried Cass the two feet before helping him onto the bed.

"Did you contact Hannah?"

Dean growled at the name.

Cass cocked his head questioningly at Dean.

"Just don't mention her right now."

"What happened?"

"She refused to help Crowley."

Cass frowned. "Did you explain the situation?"

"Never got the chance. Booted her out first."

"Dean," Cass said sounding disappointed.

"I don't want to hear it. You didn't hear the way she was talking about him. There was no way I was going to let her near him. Not to mention Sam would have probably killed her."

"I should go check on him."

"No. At least not yet. I haven't had you for five minutes yet."

"Dean, Sam still doesn't have Crowley."

"You're right. I was just worried about you."

Cass smiled and brought a hand up to the cup Dean's left cheek.

"I missed this," Dean whispered.

Cass let his hand drop back into his lap. "You know I had to heal him don't you?"

"Yeah. You were right, I was just worried. Hey Cass, I'm still not comfortable opening up but if you really want to tell someone..."

"I only wanted to tell Sam."

Dean nodded.

"Um, and maybe Crowley now," Cass said fidgeting.

"I'm okay with that," Dean told him.

"Really?"

"Really. Come on, let's go check up on Sam and Crowley."

\--------

The door creaked open again but Sam ignored it. There was no reason for Dean to come back this early but it didn't matter. Sam ran his thumb over Crowley's cheek once again. I should have listened to him. I should have taken him so I could keep an eye on him. I should have-

"Sam?"

"Cass?" Sam turned to look over his shoulder.

"How is he?"

"He passed out when you healed him and hasn't woken up since. What did you do to him?"

"I couldn't heal him fully. Most likely it's the human blood keeping him asleep while he heals the rest of the way. The more human he becomes the harder it is for his powers to help him."

"So we stop giving him blood?"

"Why don't I check on him before we make any decision?"

Sam stood and moved to the other side of the bed. Dean helped as Cass made his way to the bed and sat down on the edge. Cass reached out and placed a hand against Crowley's chest. For a while no one spoke. Finally Cass removed his hand and shook his head.

"What's wrong," Dean asked.

"I don't have enough Grace left."

"So you can't figure out what's wrong with him," Sam asked.

"Personally? No."

"What does that mean?"

Cass sighed. "It means I have to call in a favor."

"From who," Dean asked.

"You're not going to like it," Cass told Dean.

"No. I don't want her back here ever again."

"I can't help him. We need her Dean."

"She won't do it."

"She will if I ask her."

.

Sam rested a hand on Crowley's arm as he watched the bedroom door. The chair from his desk had been moved next to the bed and Cass was currently occupying it. Dean had also brought in a second chair at Cass' behest. When he heard the footsteps from the hallway Sam subconsciously tightened his grip on Crowley's arm. Hannah, entered first and Dean followed just behind her. Shutting the door he leaned back against it.

"Hannah," Cass greeted.

"Castiel," Hannah answered with a nod.

"I need your assistance."

"So you said in your prayer."

"I need you to help heal him," Cass said with a nod to Crowley.

"Why would I help a demon?"

"Because he deserves it."

"He's a demon Castiel."

"He's a demon who saved Dean's life."

Hannah glanced over to Dean before looking back to Cass.

"Why would a demon help a human," she asked.

"Because Dean is Sam's brother."

"And?"

"And Crowley cares greatly for Sam."

"He's a demon Castiel, he cannot care for anyone other than himself."

"You're wrong Hannah."

"Demon's lack empathy. They can't care for anyone other than themselves."

"He's half human," Cass informed her.

Half human," she repeated sounding doubtful.

"Check for yourself if you doubt me."

Hannah walked closer to the bed and stared at Crowley. Finally she extended a hand and reached towards him. Sam growled and started to stand. Cass reached out and placed a hand on Hannah's arm stopping her for the moment.

"We discussed this Sam," Cass whispered.

"So I'm just supposed to trust her?"

"No, you're supposed to trust me."

"Whatever, but if she does anything to hurt him-"

"I'll kill her," Dean cut in.

Sam gave a sharp nod to his brother who returned the nod.

"This is ridiculous," Hannah began.

"The sooner we begin the sooner this can end," Cass stated.

Eyeing Hannah carefully as she reached toward Crowley once more Sam tensed. If she did anything to hurt Crowley he'd kill her himself before Dean ever got the chance to get close enough. Placing her hand on his chest Hannah closed her eyes. The room was silent as she concentrated. Finally she opened her eyes and removed her hand. Turning to Sam she cocked her head in a way that reminded him a lot Cass. Maybe it was an angel thing, Sam reasoned.

"His energy feels much like yours."

"Sam used his own blood when trying to cure him," Cass informed her.

"Cure?"

"The third trial for closing the gates to Hell."

"Can you heal him or not," Sam interrupted.

"You know he loves you?"

"Can. You. Heal. Him," Sam growled.

"No."

"Then get out."

"I can assist him in healing himself," she said quietly.

"Then do it or leave," Sam ordered.

Nodding Hannah sat in the chair next to Cass. Reaching out she replaced her hand on Crowley's chest and closed her eyes.

\--------

"No," Crowley shouted bolting upright. Breathing heavily his eyes darted around the room, freezing the second he saw Sam. Real, he thought to himself. **This** Sam was real. Everything else had been a dream; just a dream.

"Hey," Sam said quietly.

"Sam," Crowley asked. In the dim light he couldn't make out much of Sam's features. He needed to hear Sam's voice again.

"It's me."

Crowley struggled trying to untangle his legs from the blankets. Suddenly he _had_ to get the blankets off, _had_ to get up, _had_ to touch Sam. Before he managed to detangle himself a hand rested on his shoulder. Turning Crowley stilled as he stared directly into Sam's eyes.

"Shh," Sam soothed.

One second he was sitting there staring at Sam and the next Sam was sitting on the bed next to him; both their arms wrapped around each other. Crowley pressed his head against Sam's chest and tightened his arms around Sam. Desperately he tried to control his emotions. Cannot break down; will not break down. Sam placed one hand flat against Crowley's back and the other behind Crowley's head as he continued to hold him. Later, Crowley told himself. I'll be strong later. Let me have this, just for now. Please? He had no idea to whom he was praying. Lucifer would just as soon kill them both and God could probably care less about the likes of him.

"Shh, it's okay," Sam soothed. "I'm not leaving."

"Please stay," Crowley begged still pressed against Sam's chest.

"Promise. Shh," Sam soothed again as he continued rubbing Crowley's back.

Clutching tightly onto Sam's shirt Crowley squeezed his eyes shut and tried to banish the last vestiges of the nightmares. Sam's soft whispers helped to alleviate some of the remaining demons still haunting him. In a minute or two he would pull himself together but for now he let himself take comfort in Sam's embrace.

"Want to talk about it," Sam asked.

Crowley simply shook his head.

"Can we at least lay down then? I've kind of been sitting for a while now."

Opening his eyes Crowley leaned back to look up at Sam. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Almost four days."

"Please tell me you haven't just been sitting in bed with me for four days straight."

"Of course not." Sam smiled sheepishly. "After the first day I sat in the chair."

Sam nodded sideways and Crowley glanced over to the side of the bed.

"You sat there for four days?"

"Three," Sam corrected.

"You didn't get up to eat?"

Sam shrugged. "Dean brought food."

"Ah, that explains the second chair."

"Not exactly."

Crowley waited but Sam didn't continue. "Sam?"

"Healing you cost Cass most of his grace."

"I tried to tell him not to heal me."

"I know you did and I'm glad he didn't listen."

"How is he?"

"Good actually, all things considered. He woke up early this morning."

"What do you mean 'he woke up'?"

"Cass passed out trying to heal you. He didn't wake up again until earlier today. Or technically yesterday I guess."

Crowley shook his head. "So the chair was for Cass?"

"Umm…"

"Sam."

"After everything he didn't have enough grace left to help you. We kind of had to call in help."

"Help?"

"Cass contacted another angel. She couldn't heal you but she could help you heal yourself."

"Why would an angel help a demon? What did you do, Sam?"

"I didn't do anything, Cass called in a favor. Can we lay down now? My back's killing me from sitting and sleeping in that chair for days. By the way you're a bed hog when you sleep."

"You slept in the chair? Damn it Sam, you should have put me in my own bed. Or you could have at least slept in my bed. I wasn't using it."

"Couldn't watch you from a different room. Move, it's only two-thirty and I want to get some sleep laying down tonight."

"Now that I'm awake you can have your bed back. I can go sleep in my own," Crowley pointed out.

"Like hell you're leaving. I spent four days not knowing if you were ever going to wake up again. I'm not letting you out of my sight anytime soon."

Sam nudged him until Crowley shifted sideways slightly. Yawning Sam moved until he was finally laying down. Shoving one arm under a pillow Sam glanced back up. Lifting the arm not under the pillow Sam cocked an eyebrow and waited. Crowley frowned as he finally noticed something. Reaching out he grabbed Sam's arm and pulled it closer.

"What did you do?"

"It's nothing," Sam huffed.

"Are these all needle marks?"

"Cass said you'd need blood. We couldn't give you Dean's or his."

"Damn it Sam!"

"Sleep now. You can yell at me tomorrow," Sam said stifling another yawn.

"Damn right I'm going to yell at you tomorrow," Crowley muttered. Holding Sam's arm Crowley slid down until he was laying next to Sam. Turning on his side he scooted back until he was snuggled against Sam and carefully lowered the arm until it rested on his side. Sam shifted the arm until it was curled loosely around Crowley's waist. Crowley couldn't stop the soft smile playing at his lips.

.

Crowley managed to close his eyes and enjoy being held even if he couldn't force himself to fall back to sleep. Never had anyone taken the time to simply hold him; not while he had been human and definitely not when he had become a demon. The few times he had gone to bed with anyone after becoming a demon he always left just after he finished. Never had he wanted to simply be held... Not until he met Sam.

Lazily Crowley opened one eye and inspected the clock. Ten 'til six, he should probably start trying to slip out of bed right about now. Sam usually got up some time just after seven. Apparently Dean woke up slightly earlier and made breakfast. Crowley wanted to beat the older Winchester to the kitchen this morning. Carefully Crowley wrapped his fingers around Sam's wrist. As he started to lift Sam's arm Sam shifted and tightened his grip around Crowley. Okay, he wasn't going to be able to get up that way.

Focusing Crowley called on his power. When it didn't immediately respond he frowned in confusion. Turning his attention inward Crowley checked for his power. Something was definitely different. He felt his power coiled in the pit of his stomach where it always sat. Still, it was difficult to truly 'feel' it. Clearing his mind Crowley focused solely on the feeling of his energy. When he could finally feel the connection he blinked out from under Sam's arm and off the bed.

Sam shifted and Crowley froze. Muttering in his sleep Sam turned onto his back and threw an arm over his head. When Sam finally stilled Crowley breathed a sigh of relief. Cautiously he made his way to the door. Opening the door he exited the room and shut it carefully behind himself. Creeping down the hallway he tiptoed past Dean's room and down the stairs before he felt comfortable enough to proceed normally.

.

"What. The. Hell."

Nearly dropping the pan of eggs he was carrying Crowley cursed. Steadying the pan Crowley set it on the counter. Turning he spied Dean and Castiel standing in the doorway. Dean looked completely dumbfounded and Castiel just looked tired. The angel swayed slightly and Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel. My fault, Crowley thought. He should never have wasted his Grace on me.

Better to err on the side of caution until he knew how angry Dean was for him taking Castiel to the little meet and greet with Abaddon. Dean would do whatever he wanted. Castiel looked like he desperately need to get off his feet. Crowley worked to keep his tone level and his attitude deferential when he spoke.

"I'm almost done. You could have a seat while I finish if you like," he offered.

"Perhaps we should all sit down," Castiel stated.

"I'm almost finished. I just-"

"Sit down Crowley," Dean ordered quietly.

Cautiously Crowley sat down in the nearest chair.

"I, we have something we need to say," Castiel began.

Crowley's one thought was that they would ask him to leave; leave them, leave the bunker, leave Sam. It would only be fitting. He cost Dean his angel's Grace, Dean would take Crowley's angel in return. It was simple, it was logical, it was just.

"Crowley?"

Lifting his eyes Crowley met Castiel's gaze.

"I'm with Cass," Dean announced.

"Um, with him on what precisely," Crowley questioned cautiously.

"With him," Dean reiterated.

"You mean that you two are together? Like a couple?"

"Yes," Dean answered crossing his arms.

"About bloody time," Crowley mumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean," Dean asked.

"You two have been dancing around each other long enough. It's about time you two actually made it official."

"Is something burning," Castiel asked.

"Damn it," Crowley growled. "I told you I wasn't quite done." Shoving the chair back Crowley rushed to the oven.

"Dean," Sam asked walking into the kitchen.

Of course Sam would pick right now to show up. Without a second thought Crowley grabbed the pan from the oven. Normally being a demon would have been enough to keep from being burned. Apparently not this time. "Ow! Bloody hell."

"What's wrong," Castiel asked.

"Nothing," Crowley grumbled.

"Here, let me see," Sam said grabbing for the the arm.

"I told you it's nothing," Crowley replied jerking his arm back.

"Obviously it's something," Sam shot back.

"Stop," Castiel ordered. "Sam, back off please."

"But he-"

"Sam…"

"Fine, whatever," Sam muttered.

"Crowley," Castiel asked.

"I told you it's nothing. Would everyone please stop worrying about it?"

"If it's nothing then why can't I see it," Sam interjected.

"Oh, for the love of-. Fine. Here look."

Crowley shoved his hand out toward Sam. After inspecting the burn a few moments Sam stood and walked to the fridge without a word. Crowley watched Sam dig in the freezer and return with a Ziploc bag full of ice. Grabbing the dishtowel Sam wrapped it around the bag and handed it to Crowley.

"Hold that on it for a while."

Taking the ice pack Crowley stared at the burn. Feeling for his power he realized it was still difficult to tap into it. Crowley sat down in one of the chairs at the table and placed the ice pack over his burn.

"What happened to me while I was unconscious," he asked quietly.

"What do you mean," Sam questioned.

"Why is it so difficult to use my power now?"

For a while no one spoke.

"Just tell me."

"I made sure they gave you enough human blood to keep your demonic blood from reasserting itself while you were unconscious," Castiel finally answered. "It's probably making it more difficult for you to tap into your demonic side."

"So… no powers?"

"Probably not until the human blood wears off some," Castiel answered.

"Great," Crowley muttered.

No powers? No healing, no blinking from one place to another… No protection, Crowley suddenly realized. No protection for him but also no way to protect Sam. This couldn't be happening. Not now.

"Crowley?"

"Huh," he asked looking up.

"I said are you alright," Sam repeated.

"Why wouldn't I be? It's not that bad."

"I wasn't talking about your hand."

"Fine," Crowley muttered. "If that's everything we should probably eat."

"About that," Dean interrupted. "What possessed you to make breakfast?"

Crowley shrugged. "I just felt like making breakfast. You do, why shouldn't I?"

"It's just creepy."

"Dean," Castiel chastised.

"Looks good," Sam told him.

"I didn't say it didn't look good," Dean grumbled grabbing a plate.


	8. Chapter 8

"Uh, so who does dishes," Dean asked.

"I will," Sam volunteered. "You did wake up first so I would have been stuck with the dishes anyway."

"Sam," Cass began.

"It's okay Cass," Sam assured the angel.

"No, I wanted to talk to you. About what you said, when you asked about Dean and I."

"Hey you don't have to tell me, I didn't mean to push."

"Is this about what I think," Dean asked.

"Yeah," Cass admitted.

Crowley stood and began clearing the dishes.

"Look, you don't have to tell me anything. I shouldn't have pushed." Sam told them.

"You were right, though. We are together," Cass said quietly.

"I know."

"You know," Dean asked surprised.

"Well yeah. Cass doesn't lie and he wouldn't answer me so it just made sense."

"And you don't mind," Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. "Why would I?"

"I-. You-."

Crowley smiled as Dean stumbled over the fact that no one cared he and the angel were together.

"He makes you happy. I'm happy you found someone."

"Thanks Sammy."

"Don't mention it. Hey," Sam called out. "I told you I would do the dishes."

"I don't mind," Crowley told Sam.

"Then I'm drying. Move over," Sam ordered.

Crowley obligingly moved to give Sam space near the sink.

They worked together, Crowley washing and Sam rinsing the dishes until the dishes were all washed. Sam grabbed a towel and began drying and Crowley put things away. Doing dishes with Sam felt natural, it felt right. If only everything could stay just like this.

"How's the hand," Sam asked.

"Oh, it's, uh…" Crowley looked down to the injured hand then back to Sam. Finally he shrugged.

Sam raised an eyebrow and waited.

"It just is, Moose. For the most part I can ignore it."

"You don't feel it?"

Crowley shrugged. "I've had worse."

"You burned almost the whole hand," Sam argued.

"I've had worse," Crowley repeated in a whisper. Memories, unbidden, flashed through his mind. For a moment the past rushed forward to haunt him. When a hand settled on his shoulder Crowley jumped and shoved the person away. Jerking his head to the person in front of him he was surprised to find it was only Sam. Those were just memories, he told himself. This is real. Sam is real.

"Crowley?"

"I'm fine," he muttered. "I should probably get back to my research."

"I think we should take a break today," Sam told him.

This time it was Crowley's turn to cock an eyebrow questioningly.

"We need a break before we all go crazy."

"What kind of break?"

"I don't know. I was thinking we could all go out and do something."

"I can't go anywhere looking like this," Crowley dissented.

"And because of the blood right now you can't…" Sam trailed off lost in thought. "Right, follow me."

Crowley spared a look to Castiel and Dean briefly before following Sam out of the kitchen. They made their way through the foyer and up the stairs. Neither said a word as they walked. They passed all the bedrooms and Sam opened a door at the far end of the hallway.

"Towels are in the cabinet, make sure to throw it in the hamper when you're done."

"Okay. Um, Sam?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't exactly bring a spare suit."

"Oh. I'll find you something."

Crowley gave a small nod.

Turning Sam made his way back down the hall. Crowley watched Sam until he disappeared into his room before finally entering the bathroom. Closing the door behind himself he inspected the room. Very utilitarian, much like the rest of the bunker. Solid white tiling covered the floor with a basic white and black pattern on the walls. Shaking his head Crowley began to undress. Just as he finished there was a knock at the door.

 _"Crowley,"_ Sam called through the door.

Opening the cabinet Crowley quickly grabbed one of the folded towels. Shaking it to unfold the towel he wrapped it around his waist. Finally he opened the door. For a while neither man moved. As Sam's eyes moved down his body Crowley became increasingly uncomfortable with his current state of undress.

"Yes," Crowley asked shifting self-consciously.

"I, uh, brought you some clothes," Sam stammered.

Crowley did his best not to grin at Sam's obvious unease. At least he wasn't the only one feeling slightly awkward. Taking the clothes from Sam he muttered a quick thank you. Sam mumbled something to quiet to hear before he turned and left. Shutting the door Crowley inspected the clothes. Lifting the faded blue T-shirt he realized it was too big for Dean. Obviously the shirt was one of Sam's. The jeans, however, were obviously too short to fit Sam. Dean's, Crowley guessed. Sighing he removed the towel and stepped into the shower.

Turning the knobs Crowley put the hand that wasn't burned under the water to test the temperature. Adjusting the knobs until the water was a decent temperature he finally twisted the knob diverting the water from the facet to the shower head. Initially the spray was freezing but it warmed quickly. Brushing the last of the shivers away Crowley leaned into the spray. Standing under the warm water he closed his eyes finally let himself relax. He had no idea how long he had been standing there when a knock at the door cause his eyes to open.

"Yes?"

_"You okay in there,"_ Sam's voice filtered through the door. 

"Fine," he replied.

_"Just checking. You've been in there a while."_

"Almost done," Crowley answered. Damn, just how long had he been standing here?

When there was no reply Crowley assumed Sam had wandered away to wait somewhere more comfortable. Grabbing a bottle of shampoo Crowley popped the lid and sniffed the bottle. Dean's, his nose told him. Replacing it Crowley grabbed the other shampoo, popped the lid and sniffed it. Sam's. For a moment he stood there just reveling in the thought of Sam and him actually together. Shaking his head Crowley banished the daydream.

"Never going to happen," he grumbled to himself.

Washing his hair he ignored the sting from the burn on his hand. The burn was a minor annoyance compared to any number of things he'd suffered when becoming a demon. Indeed there were several things he had endured since then that had been excruciatingly worse. Sam's concern though was heartwarming. It had been a long time since anyone ever truly cared if he was in pain, if anyone ever had cared. Before he could stop it memories slammed into his mind and he flashed back to his childhood.

\--------

"Crowley," Sam called as he knocked. The water was still running but it had to be cold by now. Sam knocked on the door a second time but there was still no response. Cautiously Sam cracked the door and called into the room. When there was still no response Sam finally peeked around the door. Staring at the shower curtain he wondered how to proceed.

"Crowley," he called out slightly louder than before.

Still no response. What if he's gone, Sam thought. They only had his word that he was having difficulties using his powers. They had added extra warding to prevent anything from getting in or out but what if Crowley had found a way? What if he's hurt, Sam thought suddenly. If he slipped… Rushing forward Sam grabbed the shower curtain and hesitated for only a second. When drew the curtain back he was relieved to find Crowley present and apparently uninjured. The relief was quickly replaced with concern.

Crowley was sitting in the tub with his legs drawn up and his arms wrapped around them as he stared straight ahead at the wall in front of him. He was shivering slightly and didn't even seem to notice Sam's presence. Dropping to his knees Sam reached out and shook Crowley's shoulder. Fuck, that water's freezing. Twisting Sam grabbed the knobs shut the water off before returning his attention to Crowley.

"Hey! Crowley!" Placing a hand on either shoulder Sam shook Crowley again. Finally Crowley blinked several times and turned towards him. Sam gave a heavy sigh of relief.

"Hey, you okay," Sam asked.

"Sam," Crowley asked.

"Yeah, it's me. You alright?"

"I… where…" Crowley shook his head as if to clear it. "What are you doing in here?"

"You didn't answer when I knocked. I came in to make sure you were alright."

"Um, can you maybe hand me my towel?"

"You sure you're okay?"

"Towel first please."

"Yeah, one second." Sam stood and grabbed the towel. Walking back he offered the towel to Crowley. Crowley reached out with one arm and took the towel.

"Thanks."

"Yeah. Um, I'll wait outside," Sam stated.

Crowley simply nodded.

Backing away Sam almost ran into the sink on his way out of the bathroom. Steadying himself with his hands on the sink he finally turned and left, closing the door. Get a grip, he scolded himself. You're acting like a teenage girl. Pacing back and forth Sam waited for Crowley to finish drying and get dressed. More than once Sam stopped pacing and turned to knock on the door. Somehow he restrained himself and continued his pacing. When the door finally opened behind him Sam turned instantly.

"Hey," Crowley said quietly, dropping his eyes.

"Shirt's a little big," Sam noted. "I could see about getting one of Dean's."

"I like this one," Crowley stated.

Sam felt a smile tugging at his lips. "It's an old shirt. You're welcome to use it as long as you need."

"Thanks."

For some reason the sight of Crowley wearing his shirt pleased Sam. Yep, definitely turning into a teenage girl. "You smell like my shampoo."

"Yeah, I wasn't sure if Dean would want me using his things," Crowley said with a shrug.

"Understood. What happened in the shower?"

"Nothing," Crowley said finally meeting Sam's eyes.

"Something happened."

"You're not going to let this go are you? Okay, but can we discuss this elsewhere?"

"My room," Sam offered.

Nodding once Crowley headed for Sam's bedroom. As Sam followed he noted more than once Crowley had to tug on the waist of the pants to keep them from slipping down. He's going to need a belt, Sam thought. Hell, if he stays much longer he's going to need more than a belt. Sam shook his head and followed Crowley into the bedroom, closing the door as he entered.

Crowley stood near the desk facing away from Sam and his hands resting on the back of the chair. Sam took a seat on the edge of the bed and waited. Finally, sighing loudly, Crowley turned the chair to face the bed. Sitting down Crowley eyed Sam for a moment.

"Nothing 'happened', I was just remembering things," Crowley stated at last.

"What kind of things?"

"Unimportant things."

"They didn't look unimportant," Sam said softly.

"Perhaps they're not as unimportant as they once were," Crowley mused.

Sam waited for Crowley to continue, not quite ready to push him just yet.

"Something happens when you become a demon. Either you forget about your past or it enrages you to the point where you kill whatever offended you and then you forget about it. Either way your past stops being important to you." Crowley shrugged. "I haven't thought about my past much since I was changed. Most of the time I barely remember it"

"And now," Sam prompted.

"I want you to understand something first. I'm still not really ready to discuss this. Maybe one day I will but not just yet. Okay?"

Sam nodded.

"I usually just ignore my past. It's not like it's relevant anymore. I guess the human blood is countering whatever is in the demon blood that makes your past matter less. Maybe it's just making me 'emotional'. I don't know. Whatever it is, I just catch myself thinking about things better left forgotten."

"If you ever need to talk about anything-"

"No," Crowley replied quickly. "I mean… If I ever feel like it I will. Promise. Just…"

"Not yet?"

"Please?"

"It's fine Crowley. I just wanted to makes sure you knew I'm willing to listen."

"Didn't you say something about taking a break today," Crowley asked.

Sam allowed him to change the topic. "I was thinking of doing something 'normal' for once. Like maybe catching a movie or something."

"I've never been to a movie."

"Seriously," Sam asked incredulous.

"I died in the early seventeen hundreds Sam," Crowley stated flatly.

"Wow. Okay, movies it is, then."

Sam stood and walked to the closet. Shoving the hanging clothes sideways he reached to the far right and grabbed the hanger holding all his belts. Holding the hanger of belts he glanced back at Crowley. Inspecting the belt loops on the pants Sam finally selected a belt and handed it to Crowley. He returned the rest to the closet.

"Maybe that will help until we can get clothes that fit better."

As Crowley threaded the belt through the loops Sam grabbed a needle and began looking for a good vein.

"No."

Glancing up at Crowley Sam lowered his brows in confusion.

"No more."

"You need blood to stay mostly human," Sam told him patiently.

"I'm good for now. Besides, you need to give your veins a break."

"You won't stay good. I don't want you to get withdrawals in the middle of the movie."

"I'll be fine."

"Not if you pass out in the theater. Imagine us trying to come up with an excuse for why you passed out and why you don't need to go to the hospital."

Crowley frowned.

"I could get someone else. I mean if it's just my blood you don't want…"

"No! It's… I don't…" Trailing off Crowley turned away to face the wall. When he finally turned back he refused to meet Sam's eyes. "I don't want anyone else's blood," he said quietly.

"You don't want to be human anymore, is that it?"

"I don't know what it is. I do know I don't like not being able to feel my power. It's… disconcerting. I don't ever want anyone else's blood, though," Crowley whispered.

"I don't know what to do here," Sam admitted. "I really don't want you to lose the humanity you've gained but I don't want you to feel uncomfortable either."

Crowley fidgeted.

"You have to talk to me Crowley. I need to know what to do."

"I don't know what to do about this."

"What do you want?"

A wry smile lit Crowley's face. "I don't think that's the best question to ask Moose."

Sam huffed in exasperation. "You know what I meant."

"Yeah," Crowley admitted. "Can I do it," he asked suddenly.

"Do what?"

"Can I extract the blood. You're right, I'm going to need it eventually. If we're going to do this I'd rather you didn't use your arm again."

"You have experience extracting blood?"

"Not per se," Crowley answered cryptically.

"Crowley."

"I have experience with anatomy and injections."

"Really?"

"You really don't want to ask, Sam."

"Yeah, I do. Give me something to help me understand why you would have that knowledge."

"Sam," Crowley warned.

"Just give me something."

"Torture," Crowley said simply.

Sam took a minute to digest that before replying. "You torturing others or others torturing you," he asked slowly.

"Both," Crowley growled.

Crowley turned back to face the wall and Sam ran a hand through his hair. Finally Sam made his way over to the other man. Walking up behind Crowley he wrapped his arms loosely around him and held him.

"I'm sorry I pushed," Sam whispered.

"I would want to know if I were you. Understandable."

"I still shouldn't have pushed." Sam leaned down and nuzzled the side of Crowley's neck.

"Mmm. Nice," Crowley murmured. "If… If I don't say it often enough I want you to know I appreciate everything."

"Hmm," Sam hummed agreeably.

"You might want to let go soon."

"Yeah?"

"Unless you want to continue this naked on your bed," Crowley added suggestively.

Sam froze.

With a sigh Crowley took hold of Sam's arms and unwrapped himself. Turning Crowley used his fingertips to brush Sam's hair away from his face. He let his hand linger against Sam's cheek before he finally let it drop.

"Sorry. I didn't mean for that to come out."

"I just…"

"I know, it's fine Sam. I shouldn't have said that."

"I just wish I knew how I felt."

Crowley smiled. "I can wait until you figure it out."

"Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for. Now come on, let's get the blood taken care of before Dean comes in whining about how we're taking too much time."

\--------

Crowley sighed contentedly as he felt the blood rush through his veins. Human blood itself was already addicting, but Sam's was doubly so. He really hadn't wanted any more blood this soon. He wanted to wait for the effects to wear off some first. Sam was right though. They couldn't chance him going through withdrawals in a public place. Crowley followed Sam downstairs to where Castiel and Dean were waiting.

"It's about time," Dean complained. "Are those my pants?"

"He can't wear mine Dean, they're too big," Sam informed his brother.

"So you gave him mine? Without asking?"

"If I asked you would have said no."

"Damned right I would have said no."

"If I gave him my pants they would have fallen off of him. You really want that?"

"Whatever, we ready now," Dean asked.

"Yeah. Ready Crowley?"

Crowley hesitated.

"What's wrong," Sam asked.

"Do I have to wear the blindfold?"

Sam and Dean shared a look.

"Can we trust you enough not to need it," Dean questioned.

"I already know the location. I can't blink into the bunker with all of the wards but I can blink several feet away."

"How do you know the location," Dean asked.

"During the outing I checked for the exact area I could blink to and from." Crowley shrugged and then frowned. "Back when I actually could blink," he added.

"Why do you call it blinking," Dean asked.

"I don't know, that's just what it's called. I suppose it's because you blink out of one place and into another."

"I don't suppose there's any reason for the blindfold then," Sam stated.

"Whatever," Dean grumbled. "Let's get this show on the road."

.

"A chick flick," Dean asked incredulously. "You want to watch a chick flick?"

"The reviews sounded good," Crowley shot back defending his choice.

"I am so not watching a chick flick."

"Maybe it won't be that bad," Castiel offered.

Dean crossed his arms and glared at Sam.

"Fine," Sam conceded. "Why don't you two go see a Next Target while Crowley and I go see Always and Never. They both let out around the same time."

"Fine," Dean agreed.

As Dean and Castiel headed inside to the ticket line the angel looked back over his shoulder and mouthed a quick 'thank you' towards Sam. Crowley's mind instantly thought of about half a dozen comments he could make about Sam and himself in a dark theater. Wisely he kept his mouth shut. He had already caused Sam enough discomfort for one day. Better that he keep his remarks to himself. Turning Crowley finally noticed Sam watching him.

"Yes," Crowley asked.

Sam gifted Crowley with a small smile before answering. "You ready?"

"Yeah."

The two entered the theater and Crowley turned inspecting the place. Bright, noisy and overcrowded, he thought. Pretty much everything Crowley didn't like all crammed into one small building. He was beginning to have doubts about this. Sam nudged him and Crowley turned. Sam held out a small square of paper. Taking the stub he inspected it.

"Figured you might want to keep your ticket," Sam explained. "You know, since it's your first trip to the movies."

Crowley smiled and pocketed the ticket. Following Sam they stopped at another counter for snacks. Sam turned to Crowley and raised an eyebrow cocking his head to the menu on the wall in front of them. Crowley inspected the menu briefly before turning back to Sam and shrugging. With a smile and an over exaggerated an eye roll Sam turned to order.

Loaded with drinks and various snacks the two finally headed for their movie. Entering the dim room Crowley inspected the room before turning back to Sam. Sam nodded at the seats and waited. Turning back Crowley tried to decide where to sit. Finally he decided on sitting near the front, fairly close to the screen.

.

"So, what did you think?"

"That was… nice."

"Nice," Sam asked.

Crowley shrugged. "I had a good time. Wouldn't mind doing it again sometime."

Exiting the movie theater he noted Dean and Castiel on the far side of the parking lot standing near the Impala. He was actually glad that those two had admitted their feelings for each other. They both deserved to be happy. Feeling Sam's eyes on him Crowley turned and caught the younger Winchester watching him intently. Crowley raised an eyebrow and waited.

"I wouldn't mind doing that again either," Sam confided.

Crowley glanced back to the Impala. "Perhaps without the extra company next time?"

Sam smiled. "Perhaps."

An uneasy feeling washed over him and Crowley scanned the surroundings. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Frowning Crowley turned back to Dean and Castiel. Something about one of the shadowy areas near them caught Crowley's attention. His frown deepened as he inspected the area carefully. Everything seemed normal. Just as he was about to chalk it up to his imagination he saw a brief glint off of metal.

Instinctively Crowley reached for his power. Barely able to feel a trickle he growled and pulled harder on the energy. He didn't recognize the person that stepped out of the shadowy area but he recognized the knife they carried all too well. Tugging on his power harder he finally managed to blink between the unknown assailant and the Impala. A wave of dizziness hit and Crowley wobbled slightly. The assailant had the knife raised and Crowley moved to grab their wrist; missing the wrist the knife stabbed through his hand.

A yank on the back of his shirt sent him sprawling backwards. Before he could understand what was happening he hit the car hard and his head bounced painfully against the metal. Stumbling he tried to regain his footing, floundering for a while. Lightheaded and slightly nauseous it was difficult but he managed to right himself. A bright white light started to fill his vision and Crowley covered his eyes against the flare. Opening his eyes he wavered slightly but managed to stay upright.

Quickly he checked to make sure the others were alright. Castiel was standing nearby staring at something so Crowley turned in the direction the angel was looking. Dean was standing over a body holding an angel blade; there were wing marks scorched into the ground. Someone grabbed his shoulders and spun him around.

"Hey," Crowley managed weakly meeting Sam's eyes.

"Are you okay," Sam asked concerned.

“Dizzy…,” he mumbled. “Hurts…” Crowley let himself collapse against Sam just barely before the blackness consumed him.

\--------

"Crowley," Sam shouted.

"Come on," Dean said grabbing Sam's arm.

Sam tried to shake his brother off but Dean held tight.

"We don't know if he was alone, we have to get out of here. Come on Sam."

"He's bleeding."

"You can take care of that in the car. We have to go."

The dangers of remaining here in the open finally started to get through. Picking Crowley up Sam opened the back door of the Impala and loaded Crowley inside before getting in the car himself. Cass took the front passenger seat and Dean slid into the driver's seat. Slamming the door shut Dean revved the engine and wasted no time getting them out of the parking lot.

Stripping off the plaid over-shirt Sam pulled out his pocket knife and cut a strip off of the shirt. Tossing the knife on the back dash Sam wrapped the strip of cloth around the wound in Crowley's hand. As soon as Sam finished attending to the hand he reached up and put his hands to either side of Crowley's head. Tilting Crowley's head so they were face to face Sam rubbed a thumb over Crowley's left cheekbone.

"Crowley? You gotta wake up now. Come on Crowley, wake up for me. Please?"

Nothing. Moving his hands to Crowley's shoulders he guided him until Crowley was laying down. When Crowley's head was in his lap Sam gently ran his fingers through Crowley's hair trying to soothe him as much as possible. When he felt the lump on the back of Crowley's head Sam frowned. Crowley must've hit his head on the car when Dean flung him backwards.

"Hurry up," Sam called out to his brother.

"Going as fast as I can Sammy."

The drive to the bunker seemed to drag on forever. As they made their way back Sam continued stroking Crowley's hair and whispering to him. When they finally arrived Sam slung the back door open. As he was dragging Crowley up to get a better hold on him the demon's eyes fluttered slightly but remained closed.

"Crowley?"

"Come on," Dean ordered. "Let's get him inside first."

Obediently Sam gathered Crowley in his arms and stepped out of the car. If for no other reason than because he to get somewhere more secure. By the time he got to the door Dean already had it opened. Stepping inside Sam immediately made his way to his room. Cass walked over to the bed as Sam laid Crowley down.

"Is there anything you can do to help him," Sam asked.

"Not without my Grace."

"What's wrong with him?"

"Without the ability to check I can't be sure. I'm guessing he overexerted himself when he used his powers."

"So what do we do?"

"We wait," Dean stated. "If he's mostly human then he needs time to heal like any other human would need. We should probably check his hand, he might need stitches."

Sam nodded as he reached for Crowley's hand. Unwrapping it he winced at the amount of blood on the makeshift bandage. Setting the cloth aside he inspected the wound. At least the bleeding had stopped. The injury was definitely going to need stitches.

"I'll get the medical kit," Dean said leaving the room.

\--------

_Crowley felt himself waking up though he didn't open his eyes. It was slightly warmer than he liked and he tried to understand why. An arm slid down around his waist and Crowley smiled to himself. Snuggling backwards into the warmth he paused. There was a vague sensation that something wasn't quite right. Crowley shoved the notion aside. If he was in bed with Sam's arm over him what could be wrong? Yawning Crowley turned and faced Sam. The uneasiness grew and Crowley frowned trying to understand the feeling._

_Something's wrong his mind told him. Crowley's frown deepened as he stared into Sam's eyes. There was something different about them; something harder, colder. When 'Sam' grinned Crowley flinched. That was_ not _Sam's smile, those were_ not _Sam's eyes and this was most definitely_ not _Sam._

_"Welcome back," Not Sam greeted._

_"No," Crowley pleaded struggling to break free._

_"Yes," Not Sam informed him with a malicious grin. "Did you really think you could just fall in love and forget everything? Did you really think you're past wouldn't matter anymore? Did you really think someone like me would ever love you?"_

_"You're not Sam," Crowley yelled._

_"I'm the closest a_ demon _like you is ever going to get."_

_The horrible Not Sam thing let out a blood curdling laugh and Crowley's desperation intensified. As he continued struggling the room shifted until it became the torture pits in hell. No, Crowley's mind screamed. Not real, not real, not real! **Sam!**_

\--------

"Sam," Crowley whispered in his sleep.

"Shh," Sam soothed brushing the disheveled hair away from Crowley's forehead.

Sam lay facing Crowley watching as Crowley whimpered softly. He still hadn't been able to get Crowley to wake up. Unsure of what else to do Sam held Crowley tightly. He had hoped the proximity might do some good but so far it hadn't helped. Sam continued whispering to Crowley as he held him. Every so often Sam would give Crowley's shoulder a slight squeeze and a light shake. After so long of trying to get Crowley to wake up with no success Sam was completely unprepared when it finally did happen. Crowley's eyes shot open and Sam flinched at the stark terror shining through.

"Crowley?"

"You're not him, you're not! Not my Sam!"

"Crowley," Sam yelled again.

"No! Let me go, let me go!"

Sam released Crowley's shoulders.

"Not Sam," Crowley yelled as he scrambled away.

Sam reached out to grab Crowley before he fell off the side of the bed. Crowley froze the instant Sam touched him.

"It was dream," Sam told Crowley. "You were dreaming. Crowley?"

Still no response. Pulling Crowley closer Sam inspected him. Crowley had completely shut down. Worried Sam tried to get Crowley to snap out of whatever was happening. Just then Sam's door slammed open.

"Sam," Dean's worried voice drifted into the room.

Sam ignored his brother. "Crowley?"

Still nothing.

"Come on Crowley, snap out of it."

"What's wrong," Dean asked walking over.

"I don't know. He was having a nightmare. He finally woke up but he... I don't know, it's like he shut down."

Reaching down Dean grabbed one of Crowley's shoulders. "Hey, wake up."

Crowley blinked.

"Crowley," Dean asked.

"Dean?"

"Yeah. You okay?"

"How? You... You're not supposed to be here."

"In the bunker?"

"No." Crowley closed his eyes and curled into a ball.

"Crowley?"

Blinking several times Crowley turned to look back over his shoulder. Blankly Crowley stared at Sam. Remaining still despite his desire to pull Crowley close and hold him Sam continued to watch Crowley.

"Sam," Crowley finally whispered questioningly.

"It's me."

"Really you or..."

"Really me. Promise."

"You… he... "

"It was a dream, just a dream. You're awake now. You're safe."

"Safe?"

"Yeah."

Crowley sat up and continued staring at Sam distrustfully. Sam fought the urge to offer comfort and waited. Crowley scooted up the bed and leaned back against the headboard. Drawing his legs up Crowley wrapped his arms around them and his eyes darted back and forth between Sam and where Dean was standing nearby.

"Awake," Crowley asked quietly.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "You're awake now."

Crowley buried his face in his knees and muttered something.

"What?"

"Said sorry," Crowley repeated.

Crowley started trembling and Sam reacted before he could stop himself. Moving up the bed Sam reached out to put an arm around Crowley but Crowley jerked away the instant he made contact. Sam lowered his arm and waited.

"Sorry," Crowley muttered once again.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Sam assured him.

Finally Crowley raised his head and met his eyes. It felt like he was being scrutinized but he remained still. Finally Crowley seemed to relax. Shifting sideways Crowley curled against Sam's side. Reaching out Sam put his arm around Crowley and held him.

"Sam," Dean questioned.

Crowley jerked at the sound of Dean's voice and pressed harder into Sam's side still shaking. Sam used his free hand to wave off his brother. He couldn't deal with Dean's concern right now, he had to take care of Crowley. Dean seemed to take the hint and closed the door softly.

"Shh," Sam whispered. "It's was a dream. You're awake, it's over now."


	9. Chapter 9

Damn it, why couldn't he stop shaking? It had only been a dream. None of it had been real so why couldn't he just forget and move past it? Reaching out he gripped Sam's arm and held onto it tightly. Despite how real it felt it was just a dream. Dean had never been in those dreams. The sound of Dean's voice had helped break the lingering hold from the dream.

"Look at me please."

Crowley shook his head and burrowed into Sam's side. Sam's arms tightened around him and Crowley desperately tried not to break down. Thankfully Sam didn't try to force him to talk about anything just yet. He was going to have to tell Sam something, he owed him a partial explanation at least. Taking several deep breaths Crowley steadied himself. Raising his head he still refused to look at Sam. He settle for staring at his own hands instead.

"I… The dream…"

"You don't have to talk about if you don't want."

"I have to do this. Just let me get through this please."

Sam remained quiet so Crowley continued.

"I was dreaming about the pits again."

"The pits?"

"The torture pits in hell. One of the first places all new souls visit. It's where they strip your humanity away to prepare you for becoming a demon."

Sam didn't say anything but his arms tightened around Crowley.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you doing this? I mean, why take care of me?"

"Because," Sam said, "someone should."

"If you knew half of the things I've done…"

"Shh. Come on, let's lay down."

Crowley shook his head violently.

"I didn't say we had to sleep, just lay down so we're more comfortable. Okay?"

Crowley bit his lip as he thought about it. Slowly Crowley nodded. When they were finally settled Crowley snuggled against Sam's chest and gripped the arm Sam had draped over him.

"I want you to look at me please."

"I don't know if I can."

"Please?"

Crowley tried but he couldn't. He knew it was his Sam, but something inside didn't want to take the chance he was still dreaming; didn't want to chance it wouldn't be his Sam the next time he looked. Sam's arms tightened around him.

"It was me, wasn't it?"

"No," Crowley growled. Sam would never hurt him the way Not Sam had hurt him. "You wouldn't do that to me. I know it wasn't you."

"But it looked like me?"

Crowley couldn't speak so he just held on to Sam more tightly still shaking.

"It's okay, I've got you. You're safe here."

\-------

"Are they alright?"

"I think it was just a nightmare. Sam seemed to have it under control so I didn't stick around too long. What do you think could give Crowley nightmares?."

"Hell," Cass answered simply.

Dean didn't respond as he remembered the time he spent in hell. If Cass hadn't rescued him he would probably still be there. Shivering slightly he drew Cass closer. He had only been in hell for a year. Who knew how long it had taken before they had stripped away enough of Crowley's humanity to turn him into a demon.

"Thank you for not leaving me there."

"I wouldn't have left you there after everything you sacrificed even if I hadn't been ordered to retrieve you," Cass informed him.

"Do you think Crowley really loves Sam?"

"Yes. Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"About Crowley…"

"What about him?"

"This can't last. Eventually he's going to fall to one side or the other."

"What do you mean?"

"Eventually the human blood will win out and suppress the demonic blood completely or it will stop working."

"How long do we have?"

"I don't know," Cass admitted. "I would have said indefinitely."

"Except?"

"When Sam gave him all the blood after Crowley was stabbed by Abaddon it cut the time exponentially. It would be hard for me to even venture a guess with my Grace. Without it?" Cass shrugged.

"Does Crowley know?"

"I doubt it, but he's going to have to decide fairly soon if I'm right. The tenacity with which the human blood is suppressing his demonic blood is increasing drastically. It's only a matter of time before the effects become irreversible."

"Wait, so enough human blood can cure a demon without the ritual?"

"No. It takes the ritual for the human blood to even effect a demon. If the ritual isn't finished the demon's not cured. It's more like he's a demon, just without demonic powers."

"Which means?"

"He's still susceptible to the same things demons, and most of the things mortals have to worry about. He just doesn't have the powers other demons have or a normal mortal lifespan. The ritual actually cures the demon and makes them human again."

"Maybe we should just give him more until it finally wipes out the demonic blood?"

"That's not our choice to make Dean. It's Crowley's life we're talking about. He's the one that has to live with the repercussions."

\-------

After everything there was no way Crowley was going back to sleep. He spent most of the night talking with Sam. After a long pause in the conversation he had looked over to find Sam sound asleep. Reaching down Crowley snagged the covers and drug them over Sam. Smiling to himself Crowley relaxed and watched Sam sleep.

If there had been anyone who had cared about him half as much as Sam Crowley couldn't remember. Even if Sam couldn't love him it didn't matter. He had to kill Abaddon before she could hurt either of the brothers or even the angel. The one sure way he knew to kill her was a no go. The First Blade was out of the question as Cain would never give him the mark. Cain might give the mark to Dean but the changes the mark would cause in Dean would hurt Sam. No, he had to find another way to stop Abaddon.

Sam shifted in his sleep and Crowley whispered softly. When Sam settled Crowley adjusted the blankets to make sure Sam stayed covered. No matter what happened he had to protect Sam. If that meant he had to protect Sam from himself too then so be it. Crowley frowned as realization dawned on him. He was going to have to leave. If he stayed Sam would constantly be in danger. Even if he could find a way to get rid of Abaddon there were scores of demons that would stop at nothing to kill him.

With all the wards how the hell was he going to manage that? It's not like he could waltz out the front door. Crowley paused, or could he? The angel had broken a few of the wards to allow them access to porting to the brothers when they'd gone to meet Abaddon. If those wards were still broken...

Slowly Crowley extracted himself from Sam's arms. As soon as he was free Crowley felt the loss intently. Sam let out a soft whine and moved closer to where Crowley had been laying. Suck it up, he told himself. You have to let him go to protect him. Crowley readjusted the blankets and kissed Sam lightly on the forehead before leaving the room. Shutting the door quietly he closed his eyes against the pain of actually leaving the only person he could remember loving in his entire life.

\-------

Stretching Sam yawned. Inspecting the room Sam frowned when he didn't see Crowley anywhere. He's probably either eating breakfast or doing research, Sam reasoned. He should have woken me up first, Sam thought. He could catch up with Crowley later. Grabbing a change of clothes he made his way to the shower.

In the shower Sam leaned into the hot spray and let the water run over him as he thought about everything. Crowley had risked his life to save Cass. No matter how powerful a demon was they didn't stand a chance against an angel. Crowley could have been killed but he hadn't hesitated when Cass was in danger. Sam lowered his brows as he thought about it. Had anyone even said thank you? When was the last time anyone had thanked Crowley for the things he had done for them?

Showering quickly Sam paused briefly when he washed his hair. He remembered the smell of his shampoo in Crowley's hair and smiled. Finishing his shower Sam got out and dried off quickly. Dressing he stopped briefly to run his fingers through his hair a few times and made his way down to the kitchen. Dean and Cass were seated at the table eating. Both looked up when Sam entered.

"Crowley," Sam asked.

Cass and Dean exchanged glances.

"Haven't seen him," Dean answered.

"He's probably in the library then," Sam said rolling his eyes.

Heading for the library Sam didn't bother snagging a plate. He'd drag Crowley back to the kitchen for breakfast if needed. Crowley would learn eating wasn't optional to humans or 'mostly-human demons' if Sam had to beat it into him. Entering the library he noted the books on the table but no Crowley anywhere. Sam frowned as he inspected the rest of the library. Still no Crowley… Sam made his way back to the kitchen.

"You two haven't seen Crowley at all?"

"No, why," Dean asked.

"He's not in the library," Sam answered.

"Did you check his room," Cass asked.

Sam shook his head.

"You check your rooms and the rest of the second floor. Cass, you check the first floor. I'll start checking everywhere else." Dean directed.

\-------

"Find Crowley," Dean asked Cass almost thirty minutes later in the foyer.

"No. You or Sam?"

"Not me, haven't seen Sam lately either."

"Maybe we should go find him?"

"Come on let's start checking the second floor."

As both men jogged up the stairs Dean began to worry. First Crowley turned up missing and now Sam? As hard as it was to believe, Crowley might have snuck away if given the opportunity. Sam missing as well worried Dean. Sam wouldn't have left on his own without telling anyone first.

"Sammy," Dean called as he jogged down the hall.

"In here."

Dean stopped the second he heard the tone in Sam's voice. Something was definitely wrong. Rushing to the door of Crowley's room Dean entered and stared at his brother. Sam was sitting on the bed holding a piece of paper in one hand. On the bed lay a pair of pants Dean recognized as his own and a tie. Slowly Sam raised his head. The look in his eyes told Dean everything he needed to know.

"He's gone," Sam whispered.

Sitting on the bed next to Sam Dean reached out and grabbed the paper lightly. Sam let go of the paper and dropped his hand. He sat unmoving staring straight ahead. Bringing the paper closer Dean read the words written.

_My Love,_

_I'm sorry I had to leave this way, I really did want to tell you goodbye. If I had waited to say goodbye in person you would have found some way to get me to stay. I can't do that. I have things I need to do and staying would only have endangered you and your brother. Do not look for me. I've taken steps to ensure that you won't be able to find me._

_Thank you for everything you've done. You gave me something I never had before and had completely forgotten could exist. I will always be grateful for the time we had together. You have no idea how much I wish I could have stayed, but you being endangered is unacceptable. I have to do everything I can to make sure you stay safe._

_I hope that you don't mind I kept the shirt. You did say I could use it as long as I needed. I need it right now to remind me there are people like you in the world. If you found this then you know I've left the pants on the bed as well as something else of mine. If you don't want to keep it I understand completely. Do with it what you will. Hopefully you can remember something good about the time we spent together. I honestly never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry. Believe that, please?_

_Yours forever,_  
_~me_

Dean rubbed his face and lowered the paper.

"How could he just leave?"

Reaching behind himself Dean put the paper on the bed. As he did so he noticed Cass standing awkwardly in the doorway. Motioning to the paper with a hand Dean reached out and put an arm around his brother.

"I don't understand."

There were answers Dean could give but he held his tongue. None of them would make Sam feel better and most might make everything worse. Whatever lingering doubts Dean had about how the demon felt about Sam were laid to rest by Crowley's letter. There was no denying the emotions portrayed in the letter even if Crowley hadn't been able to write them.

"Why?"

"He told you why Sammy," Dean said quietly.

"He has to know I'll look for him."

"You won't find him."

"I can't just give up on him. I've already done that once."

"He doesn't want to be found Sam."

"I can't give up on him Dean."

"You're not giving up on him. You're respecting his wishes."

"His wishes? His wishes are for me to give up on him Dean."

"You did everything you could, now you have to let him go Sammy."

\-------

Clenching his teeth together Crowley tried hard not to cry out as the withdrawals took their toll. Curled into a ball he rolled over onto his other side. Everything hurt so much. How could it hurt this bad? 'Had worse,' he tried to tell himself. The words did little to comfort him. He would do anything to make the pain stop, absolutely anything.

Despite however much he desperately wanted the pain to end he knew there would be no relief for him. The same wards that kept him from being heard outside would also keep Sam from finding him. Necessary, Crowley tried to tell himself. He had to keep Sam safe. That thought did little to comfort him in the middle of the blood withdrawals. Not since becoming a demon had anything hurt this badly.

Need Sam, his mind told him. Sam would fix everything. If only he could get to Sam everything would be alright. He almost started crawling toward the door before he stopped himself. Can't, Crowley thought stubbornly, he had to keep Sam safe. Another wave of pain sliced through him and Crowley groaned as he rolled back onto his other side. Let me die, please just let me die. When the blackness started to cover the edges his vision Crowley almost laughed in relief. As he slid into blessed unconsciousness his last thoughts were of Sam.

\-------

Dean glanced up as Cass walked into the kitchen. The slight shake of his head that Cass gave was unnecessary as Cass set the plate of food on the table. As little as it was, Dean was the only person who could get Sam to eat anything. Even then it wasn't near enough. With a heavy sigh Dean scrubbed his face with his hands. Four days and Sam was still pining for the half-demon. Something had to give before Dean lost his mind completely.

"I'll go up later and get him to eat something. I need a break for a few minutes."

"You need a good night's sleep," Cass informed him.

Good luck with that, Dean thought. When he wasn't busy making sure Sam ate he was busy trying to keep the nightmares away. Sam never talked about the nightmares and Dean couldn't bring himself to ask Sam about them. Not since Lucifer had Sam's nightmares been this bad. Whatever Sam dreamed about Dean wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"I'll try to take a nap after I try to get Sam to eat something," he told Cass.

"In your own bed," Cass asked hopefully.

"I can't leave him alone that long Cass. You know that."

They'd found out pretty early on if they left Sam alone for too long he would make a break for it. It didn't matter that he didn't have anyway to actually find Crowley. They had already tried every way they knew to find the demon. Sam wouldn't let up until they exhausted every possible method. It was easier just to go along with him than try to dissuade him. In the end nothing worked and Dean wasn't surprise. If Crowley didn't want to be found he wasn't going to be found, that was all there was to that.

"I can watch over him," Cass offered.

"There's no point. I wouldn't be able to sleep unless I was in the same bed. I'd be too worried he slipped past you somehow."

"I should have known how much Sam cared for Crowley."

"Not your fault," Dean reassured Cass. The last thing he needed right now was to have to reassure Cass none of this was his fault. He already had his hands full reassuring Sammy that it hadn't been his fault Crowley had left.

"Is he still in Crowley's room," Dean asked.

"Yeah," Cass confirmed.

Dean rolled his eyes and stood.

"I probably won't be back for a while," he said grabbing the plate of food.

"I know," Cass acknowledge quietly.

\-------

Groaning Crowley rolled over and pressed his face into the bed. Everything still ached beyond belief. How many days had he been unconscious, he wondered. Turning onto his back he was grateful for the darkness. Struggling Crowley finally managed to sit up and sling his legs over the bed. Grabbing his head Crowley winced. As much as the rest of him hurt his head was the worst by far.

Ignoring his head Crowley reached for his power and was pleasantly surprised when he felt it strong and ready. Smiling Crowley used his power to light a fire in the fireplace. So much better, he thought. How had he ever survived without his powers? Frowning Crowley noticed a piece of paper on the nightstand. Picking it up he read the two words.

SAVE SAM

Blinking Crowley thought backward on the past few weeks he'd spent at the bunker. He remembered the events with complete detachment. He vaguely remembered writing the note when he had arrived here. What he couldn't remember was why he would want to help either Winchester. Something nagged at the back of his mind. Ignoring the feeling Crowley wadded up the note and tossed it into the fireplace. Standing Crowley made his way to the closet.

He had bought this place though a third party and had never actually used this safe house before. It was probably one of the safest places he owned. Shoving the suits sideways Crowley finally picked one to wear. Reaching up to loosen his tie Crowley frowned. Suddenly the memory of leaving his tie flashed through his mind. He left his tie… For Sam… Crowley cocked his head as he remembered. He had left his tie because he had taken Sam's shirt.

Crowley rehung the suit. Slowly he walked to the full length mirror hanging on the back of the bedroom door. His eyes locked onto the reflection of the light blue shirt. Memories of the emotions slammed into him and Crowley struggled to breathe. They may have been nothing more than echoes of emotions but even that was almost too much. Blinking rapidly Crowley was surprised when his vision blurred.

.

Wiping his face against the pillow Crowley turned and checked the wall clock. Two hours, he noted distantly. Did he really just let himself wallow in self pity for two hours? Sitting up again he numbly made his way to the bathroom. Folding the clothing as he removed them he held the shirt for a while just staring. Finally he placed the folded shirt on top of the rest of the clothes.

Reaching for the knob Crowley hissed more in surprise than in actual pain when his hand stung. Bringing his hand up he inspected it pondering the stitches until he remembered the angel that had tried to kill Castiel. Either Sam or Dean had to have stitched his hand. Some sentimental part inside hoped it had been Sam. Crowley frowned at the sentimental part of him and shoved the emotion aside. Emotions were weakness, weakness got you killed. Shaking his head he snapped his wrist and healed the cut.

The reasons he was going to take out Abaddon had nothing to do with any type of emotions for Sam, he told himself. Abaddon had stabbed him, threatened him and taken his position. He had plenty of reasons to get rid of her without resorting to 'emotions'. Reaching down with his other hand he turned the water on and adjusted the temperature. Switching the flow from faucet to shower he reached for the shampoo.

\-------

"We don't have a way to kill her Sammy," Dean repeated exasperated.

"I'm telling you she's the biggest threat to us. If Crowley's going to do something to keep us safe than he'll go after her," Sam argued.

"Going after Abaddon without any way to take her out is suicide."

"I agree, and there's three of us. If Crowley goes after her alone there's no way he'll come out of it alive."

"We're not going after her without a way to kill her Sammy."

"Sam," Cass began.

"And how can you stand by and not try to help him? If it weren't for him you'd be dead right now," Sam pointed out angrily.

"I know that," Cass told Sam gently. "I just don't think the best way to repay that act would be to throw our lives away."

Sam turned back to glare at Dean.

"If it were Cass then we wouldn't even be having this conversation. You would have already run after him plan or no plan."

Dean did his best to hide the flinch. Sam was right. If it was Cass nothing would stop him from finding his angel. That didn't make it right. Dean, at least, knew his faults. Cass was definitely one of his biggest weaknesses. The hunter eyed the exangel. If it was Cass how would he feel? Dean shook his head. He reminded himself Cass would want to be found. Crowley didn't.

"You have to let him go Sammy."

"You wouldn't let Cass go," Sam pointed out.

"Crowley doesn't want to found. You have to let him go."

"Would you let Cass go if it was reversed?"

\-------

Sam... Crowley frowned. Something about Sam incited feelings in him Crowley would rather leave in the past. Angrily Crowley shoved his thoughts of Sam away. Picking up one of the bullets he inspected the markings on the bottom. The devil's trap carved into the bullet was drawn perfectly. Good. Picking up the gun he inspected it. Despite the warding and protections on the bunker the brothers really should have put the Colt somewhere safe.

Without the First Blade there was no way to kill Abaddon. Plan B, incapacitate her and take back hell. He'd shoot the bitch and chop her into pieces. After he had reestablished his position as the king he could find the traitors and make an example of them. Finally he was starting to feel more like himself.

A sharp pain suddenly hit just behind his ribs and he stopped to rub at it. A probable reminder of the blood addiction Crowley reasoned. Speaking of, he could really go for an injection right about now. Shaking his head Crowley told himself the reason he wasn't letting himself give in to the blood addiction was because he needed to be clear headed. At least until he finished taking out Abaddon. It had nothing to do with Sam or Sam's blood.

\-------

Groaning Sam rubbed his chest where the angel had kicked him. The angel advanced on him and Sam jerked back. Before the angel could plunge the knife into him Dean was there. With a sideways lunge Dean tackled the angel. The angel blade clattered across the floor. As Sam struggled to stand Dean pummeled the angel.

The angel took the punches and glared. With a wave of his hand the angel sent Dean flying backward. Stumbling Sam managed to stand. There was no way he could make it to the angel in time. Before the he could take a step the tip of an angel blade appeared through the angel's chest. As the light show started Sam covered his eyes. When the lights finally stopped Sam looked up and saw Cass standing over the body, angel blade in hand. The look on Cass' face caused Sam to freeze. As Dean stumbled to his feet Cass turned to him.

"We should leave before someone shows up to investigate," Cass stated evenly.

Dean made his way over to Sam.

"You alright?"

Sam gave a nod to his brother.

"Then I suggest we take off like Cass suggested."

As the three of them left Cass stopped and turned slowly.

"What is it," Sam asked.

"I don't know. Neither of you feel anything odd?"

Both brothers shook their heads. As the three left none of them noticed the partially obscured figure standing down the hallway. When the three were gone the man stepped out into the open and stared at the angel's body. The angel's death had been quick and efficient. Completely unlike the death he had planned for the person killing his children.

\-------

"So do we even know what the connection was," Sam asked as they made their way to the car.

"Not a clue," Dean answered.

"We know he could leave an impact," Sam said rubbing his ribs.

"He killed rapist, murderers and innocents alike," Cass stated. "We could have questioned him but he's dead now."

"About that," Sam began. "I really wish we didn't kill everything immediately."

"There's no reason a random angel would have information on Crowley," Dean huffed as he slid into the driver's seat.

"Could it hurt to ask," Sam growled.

"Sam you're going to have to let it go. If he doesn't want to be found he's not going to be found."

"It doesn't hurt for me to look does it," Sam said rubbing at his ribs.

\-------

Crowley rubbed at his ribs absentmindedly as he finished setting the protections in the warehouse. Hopefully they were unnecessary but it never hurt to be prepared. When he was satisfied Crowley inspected his work. Subtle enough that they wouldn't be felt initially and a few strong enough to give Abaddon a false sense of superiority for feeling them. Crowley nodded to himself pleased.

After he took out Abaddon he could get back to ruling hell. Crowley paused and waited for the rush that always came with remembering his position. It didn't come. Frowning Crowley brushed it off as side effect from kicking the blood habit. Who knew blood could be so addicting? _Sam's blood._ Frowning Crowley blinked several times. Where the hell had that thought come from? He'd had other blood while he was at the bunker. It was all equally addicting. Wasn't it?

Reaching up to his chest he ran his hands over his shirt. Instead of the usual undershirt he wore the light blue T-shirt he had kept. The implications behind which he really didn't want to ponder. There was no way he was being sentimental. As he stood there his mind flashed back to a random memory.

_"Shh. It's okay. I'm not leaving you."_

_"Please?"_

_"I'm not going anywhere."_

_"Promise?"_

_"I promise."_

_"I don't deserve you."_

_"Doesn't matter. I'm not leaving."_

_"Sam." God he had to get Sam to give up on him. He didn't want to but he had to…. Fuck he couldn't take comfort in Sam's presence…._

_"It's okay. I'm here, it's okay."_

_"Moose," Crowley whimpered._

_"Shh. It's okay, Crowley."_

_"Please."_

_"Please what?"_

_No response. How the hell could he tell Sam what he meant to him?_

_"Talk to me Crowley."_

_"Stay. Please," he begged._

_"I'm not going anywhere."_

_"No, stay tonight." Crowley raised his head and looked into Sam's eyes. "Nothing has to happen I swear. Just please stay, please?"_

_"Promise."_

_"All night?"_

_"Yes."_

_Crowley lowered his head and burrowed into Sam's chest again._

_"Hey, come on."_

_Crowley shook his head. He couldn't let go. Wouldn't._

_"I'm only moving us to the bed. That's all."_

_"The bed?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Do I have to let go?"_

_"Never."_

_Never sounded really good._

Crowley blinked trying to clear his vision. What the hell was that? Did he really just tear up over thoughts of the younger Winchester? Get a fucking grip, he cursed himself. You're a fucking demon not some teenage girl pining for her boyfriend! Shaking his head Crowley reached into his pants and pulled out his cell.

\-------

"You do realize I can feel your wards?"

A corner of Crowley's mouth turned upwards in a smirk.

"You wouldn't begrudge me a few protections would you?"

"Cut the crap Crowley. When I choose to kill you none of these wards will protect you."

"About that," Crowley began as he casually put his hands into his pockets. "Do we really have to resort to that? Killing is so messy. Can't we come to some other kind of agreement?"

"You know what I find the most shocking about time-traveling through a closet and landing in the year 2013? Somebody thought it would be a good idea to make you king. No Crowley, you're going to die."

Crowley shook his head. "Are you sure we can't come to an agreement?"

"Of course we can. As long as you end up dead."

Crowley sighed as he shook his head. "I was afraid of that." Without hesitation Crowley shot Abaddon through the pocket of his suit jacket. Frowning he poked his finger through the hole. Snapping his fingers he fixed the hole.

\-------

Sam frowned and inspected his shirt. He had a vague feeling something was wrong with it but not what.

"Sammy?"

"I hate it when you call me that Dean."

"Yeah well until you're you again I don't much care about what you don't like."

"I'm me Dean."

"Pft, no you're not. You're still pining for the half-demon aren't you?"

"What half-demon," a voice intoned.

All three men jumped at the voice.

"Cain," Cass growled.

"As in Cain and Abel," Dean questioned.

"The same," Cass answered not taking his eyes off of the new arrival.

"Not bad but I would have made the angel suffer."

"Who was he to you," Sam questioned.

"Nobody of consequence," Cain growled.

"If you were intent on killing him," Sam began.

"Oh hush, he wouldn't help you on your quest. I just felt you two deserved help. As much as you need him he needs you. There's my help. Take from it what you will."

"Who," Sam asked.

"Don't play stupid," Cain growled. "It isn't like you."

"Where is he," Sam asked immediately.

"That's for you to figure out. I've done what I came to do." With a snap of his wrist Cain disappeared.

"Cain," Dean asked

"The first Knight of Hell," Cass answered.

"Crowley needs me," Sam cut in.

"Really? We get a visit from the first Knight of Hell and that's all you get out of it," Dean asked.

"What do you expect Dean? He said 'As much as you need him he needs you.'


	10. Chapter 10

Taking the gun out of his pocket Crowley shot Abaddon five more times. No sense in taking chances. Walking closer Crowley inspected his handiwork. Abaddon tried to wave her hand but nothing happened.

"Devil's trap bullets," he informed her. "You're not going anywhere. We're going to be spending some quality time together."

Grabbing the axe nearby Crowley grinned. "Now where shall we start?"

Sure it would have easier with an actual bone saw but where was the fun in that? He brought the axe down and chopped the head off first. Methodically he worked his way down the body. After each arm he moved to the elbows and then the wrists. By the time he finished there wouldn't be and joint left intact. After he finished dismembering her he would bury each piece under concrete scattered across the planet.

\-------

"I have to do this Dean. If he needs me I have to find him."

"Okay but you can search from here. There's no reason to run off without a destination."

"We've done everything possible to find him from the bunker. Nothing worked," Sam argued.

"That's because he doesn't want to be found, he told you that."

"Too bad. I made him a promise and I intend to keep it."

"Sam," Cass said entering the room.

"What," Sam huffed.

"I was doing laundry and I found this."

Cass held up a small square of paper. Taking it Sam inspected it; ticket stub from the movies. Stepping sideways Sam slid down into the nearest chair. Crowley's ticket stub. As everything came crashing back Sam gripped the ticket tighter. If Crowley had left the ticket...

"He's really not coming back is he," Sam asked quietly.

"If he stayed you would have been targeted by every demon looking for him," Cass whispered. "If it helps, he really did love you."

"Would that help you if it were Dean?"

A hand rested on his shoulder and Sam looked up into Dean's eyes.

"I miss him," Sam whispered.

"I know," Dean answered. "I can't tell you it'll get easier."

Sam nodded. Suddenly a sharp pain flared through his index finger. Hissing in pain Sam raised his hand. Blood oozed from a deep cut. What the hell? Wrapping his finger in the corner of his shirt he applied pressure trying to stop the bleeding. After a minute he unwrapped the finger and stared at the red mark where the cut had been.

"What the hell," Dean asked.

"Not a clue," Sam replied confused. "Cass?"

"I'm not sure. I'd like to look into a few things before I venture a guess."

\-------

Bollocks, Crowley thought as he inspected he cut on his finger. At least with his powers back he could heal the finger instantly. Honestly, how had he survived not being able to use his powers for so long? With a sigh he picked the knife back up and returned to dicing the tomatoes. He should be getting back to hell but that could wait. Everyone deserved a vacation didn't they?

With his powers back he didn't actually have to eat. With his powers he also could have snapped up any food he chose. That thought didn't seem very appealing though. Something about actually making the food was calming. Smiling to himself Crowley walked back to the counter and checked the recipe.

\-------

The buzzer that signified someone at the front door filled the bunker. The three men turned and looked at each other. The only other person knew where the bunker was that Sam could think of was Crowley. Jumping out of the chair Sam rushed to the door. When he opened it he was shocked to see Hannah instead of Crowley.

"What do you want," he growled more angry at himself than her.

"I wish to speak with Castiel," she answered.

"Hannah," Cass asked from behind Sam.

Sam moved to allow Hannah room to enter. With a nod Hannah stepped into the bunker and Sam shut the door behind her. Running a hand through his hair Sam shook his head. It was his own fault for getting his hopes up. He had no reason to be angry at Hannah; especially not after she had helped heal Crowley.

"What are you doing here," Dean asked walking up behind Cass.

"The angels are splitting into factions," Hannah informed them.

"We've heard," Dean answered stiffly.

"So far none of the factions have enough power to take out Metatron and if they continue to fight each other none will."

"I don't understand why you are telling us this," Cass replied.

"Because if we ever hope to return to heaven we need a leader worthy of being followed. Someone strong enough to take out Metatron and who has our best interests at heart."

"Agreed, but I still don't understand why you're telling us this," Cass said slowly.

"There is a faction that wants that angel to be you."

"I don't have my powers anymore. Even if I wanted to-"

Cass stopped speaking as Hannah removed a vial from her jacket. Inside was something that glowed and swirled suspiciously like Grace. It was more silver in color instead the normal blue. Walking forward Cass ran his fingers over the vial.

"What did you do?"

"I did not do it," she stated calmly. "Rebecca did this of her own free will, as have the others. As I am the only one who knows your location I was chosen to deliver these."

Giving the vial to Cass, Hannah removed three more vials handed them to him.

"I am to be the last to donate my grace freely."

Flicking her wrist an angel blade suddenly appeared in her hand.

"No," Cass ordered instantly.

\-------

Reaching for Hannah Cass stared at the vials. With his hands full he couldn't stop her in time. Turning he intended to shove the vials at Dean. Dean was pushing past Cass trying to get to Hannah in time. Sam reached out and placed a hand on Hannah's wrist. Hannah gave a flick of the wrist with her other hand instantly pinning the three against the wall. Without his power he wouldn't be able to break her hold on them.

"I, Hannah, Angel of the Lord donate my Grace to Castiel, Angel of the Lord by my own hand and of my own free will."

With a quick motion she sliced across her throat. A silvery light shined through briefly before it began to ebb out of the cut. Unable to break free Cass ordered the brothers to close their eyes before too much of the Grace escaped the body. Closing his own eyes against the brightness Cass could do nothing but wait. The three of them fell to the ground as the lights finally flared and were gone.

Blinking rapidly Cass refocused his vision. Miraculously the four vials were still in his hands and unbroken. Turning Cass checked on Sam and Dean. Both seemed to be alright but Dean looked pissed as he stood.

"Okay what the hell was that, and don't tell me you don't know," Dean growled.

Sam stood and rolled his shoulders a few times.

"An old legend," Cass answered.

"Well that's helpful. Want to share what the legend is?"

Cass glanced back to the vials. The color of the Grace, the feeling of Hannah's Grace within him... Handing two of them to Dean Cass finally stood.

"No one thought it was really true," Cass whispered.

"Cass," Dean growled trailing off.

"The lore says Grace from one angel can be gifted to another to be used as their own. It has to be given freely and with the intentions of…" Cass trailed off trying to find a good translation for the word. "'Doing good'," he finally stated.

"Doing good," Sam asked.

Cass shrugged. "That's the closest translation I could find. You try translating Enochian."

"So wait. If you absorb enough Grace do you get stronger? Like turn into an archangel or something?"

Cass shook his head. "It doesn't work that way. Archangels are a different rank, a different type of angel."

"But you'll be stronger than Metatron, right?"

"Theoretically, yes."

"What do you mean theoretically," Dean asked.

"There is a rather significant probability I might implode trying to absorb that much energy."

\-------

Crowley drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. Nothing ruined a perfectly good day faster than politics in hell. He sighed as the latest demon rambled on about… Actually what was this demon going on about? Truthfully he hadn't been paying any attention since the demon had opened his mouth. Maybe he could just snap the demon into nonexistence and have done with the whole matter.

The majority of the Abaddon followers had been found and killed. There were still a few in hiding but he would route them out eventually. He also killed a few of the 'free-lance' demons when he took back his throne. Better to reduce the number of dissidents after his extended time away. Abaddon was no longer a threat and he ruled hell once again. All was as it should be. So why did he still feel so apathetic?

"Sire?"

Suppressing a groan Crowley looked at the demon standing before him. Tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair once more Crowley thought about how to proceed. Honestly he was sick of all the political bull he had dealt with for the past several hours. He decided he needed a break. Standing he held up a hand to the demon.

"We'll pick this back up later. I'm calling a recess for now."

"But sire-"

Crowley held up a finger to stop the demon from speaking. He seriously reconsidered incinerating the demon. With a mental sigh he decided he couldn't destroy all of his subjects that annoyed him or he wouldn't have any left.

"We will pick this up again later," Crowley said with deliberate care. "Unless you wish to argue with your king?"

He blinked to his room instead of walking to avoid meeting any other demons along the way. What the hell was wrong with him? He used to enjoy ruling hell. Well, mostly. He never had liked the endless petitioning. Why did most demons have to be so needy? Taking off his suit jacket Crowley hung it over a chair and promptly sat in the chair. Leaning forward he placed his elbows on the desk and dropped his head into his hands.

What was he missing? Abaddon was out of the picture and hell was his. He had loyal subjects, well as loyal as demons ever were. He had everything that made him happy before. Pausing at that thought Crowley frowned. That wasn't exactly right. He had never been truly 'happy' until... Not until Sam, Crowley realized as his frown deepened. Raising his head he lowered his brows as he thought about it. Had he really been happy with Sam?

He thought back to the night he left. Crowley pictured himself watching as Sam slept. He remembered brushing Sam's hair away from his face and the weight of Sam's arm laying over him. Just thinking about it cause Crowley to smile. Yes, Sam had made him happy. Suddenly the smile disappeared. Horrified Crowley realized he had loved the Moose. Still loved the Moose in fact. Holy mother of sin! What the hell?

A knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts. Growling Crowley stood and grabbed his jacket. Slipping the jacket on he buttoned it as he strode to the door. Yanking the door open he glared at the demon standing in front of him. It was the same demon who had been petitioning him earlier. As the demon opened his mouth Crowley snapped and the demon exploded. Closing the door Crowley moved back to the chair.

\-------

Glancing up Dean watched as Sam entered the kitchen and sat down next to him. He had been too distracted lately to check on Sam as often as he should have. Sam looked almost as bad as he felt Dean noted. Rubbing a hand over his face Dean rested his chin in his palm. What a pair they made; him pining for Cass and Sam pining for Crowley.

Cass had decided he had to try to absorb the Grace and Dean hadn't been able to talk him out of it. Using the Grace he had gained from Hannah Cass had ported somewhere safe in case it did backfire. While he understood the reasons why Cass felt he had to do this Dean didn't much like the idea.

"How are you feeling," he asked Sam.

"Probably better than you," Sam answered. "At least I know Crowley's probably safe."

"He'll be fine Sammy."

"Cass will be fine too Dean. You have to have faith."

"Faith, huh? Didn't we already have this conversation? I thought you were the one that had the faith and I was the one that got to doubt everything."

"You don't get to doubt about Cass coming back. He will always come back."

"I wish I had your faith right about now. God, when did I turn into such a girl?"

"You're not being a girl Dean. You're just worried because you can't be there to protect him."

"Now I know how you felt."

"Yep."

"Does this get any easier?"

"Nope."

Dean shook his head. "I made dinner if you're hungry."

"Not really," Sam replied.

"You really should eat something Sam."

"Did you eat?"

"Wasn't hungry. I just needed something to do."

"I'll eat if you eat."

"You're really going to be like that?"

"Yep."

"Fine," Dean answered as he stood.

\-------

Staring at the paper Crowley wondered if he could actually manage to finish this time. He had always gotten angry and destroyed the letter before. Maybe this time he could finally write what he needed to write. This shouldn't be that hard. It's not like he was ever going to send the thing. As he stared at the paper Crowley finally picked up the pen. The letter wasn't going to write itself.

_Sam,_

_I've written and rewritten this letter more times than I would care to admit. I realize I will never send this, however that knowledge does little to lessen the difficulty of this task. There is so much I want to say to you that it is difficult to know where to begin. Starting from the beginning would make this letter impossibly long and delve into subject matter best left in the past. Better to let sleeping dogs lie, as they say._

_I suppose we could start at a different beginning. Our story may not have started in that church but perhaps that is where our journey truly began. I still remember everything about that day; the uncomfortable chair, the prick of the needle... Mostly I remember the anger. I was angry at Dean for the cuffs, angry at you for making me the third trial, angry at everything. Mainly though I was angry at myself. I let my guard down, got taken against my will and was powerless to do anything to stop it._

_I'm not sure I can adequately describe how it felt. I'm sure you think you understand, a human caught in the world of the supernatural. Don't forget, I used to be human once. (Well twice, I suppose.) It's different when you've spent centuries with almost unlimited power at your finger tips. Becoming human again was terrifying. (And damned if that wasn't difficult to admit, even if only to myself.)_

_I'd spent centuries (longer in hell's time) having the humanity tortured out of me. When you restored even a fraction of my humanity I had no idea how to cope. It should come as no surprise I wasn't the best example of morality when I was a human. I was, however, more than capable of taking care of myself. Becoming a demon changed that. As a fledgling demon my life was hell, pun intended. I made a promise, I swore to myself, I would never be weak again. And then I met you. I think if I had known how things would play out I probably would have killed you on the spot. Perhaps it was better that I didn't know._

_With each injection in that church I felt myself slipping, becoming more human. To say I was scared would be an understatement. I could feel my powers ebbing away. Everything I had worked so hard for, used to protect myself, to keep from being hurt or used or taken advantage of, gone. There aren't words to express the amount of fear that I felt. Not surprisingly that fear manifested itself as anger._

_I would like to say the actions I took in the church as it crumbled around us were entirely selfless. Truthfully the main reason I protected you at the time was because I knew Dean would kill me if you had died. There were other reasons but self preservation was definitely among the most prevalent at the time. Later, Lucifer only knows how long, other things began to sink in. What happened during the time between getting from the church to the bunker is mostly irrelevant. The only important part was Dean opening the trunk and me finally getting to see you were truly alright._

_Ah, finally we get to the difficult part. I would like to point out this is the part where I usually rip the letter into shreds and burn the pieces into ashes. You'd think it would be easy to write this considering you aren't ever going to read it. I guess there are some things that are just that hard to admit, even if it's only to yourself. Here's to hoping I will actually finish it this time around._

_In the dungeon Dean's attitude was so cliche it hard to take him too seriously. No, what really got to me was you. I didn't know how hard it hit me at the time. Dean was brash, loud, and generally annoying. In other words, himself. You, on the other hand were quiet, soft spoken. Kind. Where Dean ordered me to provide the list you quietly reminded me of why I should. I think if I had to point to an exact moment I started to fall that would be the moment. I'm getting ahead of myself._

_I probably wouldn't have consented to provide the list if it hadn't been for you. I sat there berating myself for being weak. Don't misunderstand. I didn't consider myself weak for wanting to give in and make the list. I considered myself weak because I wanted to do whatever you wanted. I wanted to do something for you that would fix things. I wanted to do something to atone for the things I had done to you in the past. Being seen as weak can get you killed. I desperately hated myself for feeling so weak on the other hand I needed to make things right between us._

_Dean coming back later and forcibly reminding me to get started on the list wasn't too much of a surprise. I was actually surprised it took him that long to resort to a more physical form of persuasion. In retrospect, 'bite me' might not have been the wisest thing I could have said to him. When I heard movement in the outer room a second time I assumed it was Dean back for more. You can imagine my surprise when I looked up and saw you instead of your brother. The look on your face... How to explain it? There was so much concern and compassion there I couldn't bear to look at it._

_And then you apologized. After everything I had done it was you who was apologizing to me. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Being the King of Hell I'm used to those I deal with apologizing for everything. What I'm not used to is the apology being sincere. I dealt with the confusion the only way I could at the time. I retreated behind a wall of indifference. If I didn't care about anyone then they couldn't hurt me. With our past I figured it would be easy to shove you away. I underestimated you. Before I understood what was happening you were loosening the shackles at my wrists. I still didn't comprehend what I was feeling at the time. It was hard to view you as Sam. You were still 'just a Winchester'._

_The next time I saw you I had given up on everything including any form of redemption. Dean came down for the list and I hadn't had enough paper to finish. I couldn't even do that one thing right. I remember the touch of your hand on my shoulder vividly. There was something about it that was soothing. Again, I couldn't have told you why at the time. Looking back I'm surprised it took me as long as it did to realize what I was feeling. I suppose I just didn't want to admit to it at the time. Couldn't._

_Despite everything I was still too worried to face you. You had tasked me with one simple job and I hadn't been able to complete it. I felt... Regret? Guilt? Remorse? Perhaps all of them. When I finally did face you I wasn't sure what to expect. More kindness wasn't anything I did expect. It was hard to fathom why you would want to help me. When you insisted on treating my wounds all I could think of was how I failed. I failed to keep from being captured. I failed to keep things from getting to me emotionally. I failed to provide you with the only thing you had requested of me._

_How could I accept your assistance? On the other hand, how could I deny you anything in that moment? I tried to deny you though. Oh Lucifer, did I try. You see, I wasn't worthy of your help then and I'm not worthy of it now Sam. I meant what I said. I'm not the one you save. I'm what you destroy to save others. I wanted so badly to be saved. You made me want that more than anything I'd ever wanted before. I would have given anything in that moment to be exactly whatever you wanted me to be._

_I never thought it would be so hard to lose some thing I never really had. I'm so much more than myself when I'm with you. (And doesn't that just sound pathetic?) I'm sorry I can't return the shirt, I need it too much. It's the last piece of you I have left. I wish I could be whatever you need, whatever you want, but I can't and I'm sorry. Life is a delicate balance of holding on and letting go. You deserve to be with someone who makes you happy, someone who doesn't complicate your life. Someone who won't hurt you. I can't promise that._

_Yours Forever in Heart,  
Crowley_

As he signed the letter Crowley stared at it until his eyes stung with tears he refused to let fall. Reaching forward he grabbed Sam's shirt off the desk and held it to his chest. The last piece of Sam he had left. No, he definitely could not return the shirt. As painful as the emotions were and as difficult it was to pry them through the defenses his demonic nature erected Crowley clung to them. Stubbornly he refused to allow the demonic nature to steal them from him. He had gone through too much, sacrificed too many things, to let that happen.

He couldn't have Sam but he could keep the hard won humanity Sam had sacrificed so much to give him. With the emotions came weakness. He knew that but he couldn't let the love he felt for Sam be stolen from him again. Hell had taken everything else from him, this was his and he was going to keep it.

Still holding the shirt Crowley stood and picked the letter up off of the desk. For a while he stood transfixed just staring at the it. He read through it once more to be sure it said everything he need it to say. Finally he forced his feet to move and walked to the fireplace. Lowering his hand slowly he carefully dropped the paper in the fireplace and turned away.

\-------

A figure keeping itself just outside of the material dimension eyed the papers curiously. With a thought he willed the papers unburnt and into his hands. As he read through the letter he shook his head slowly. He turned back to the demon and watched him curl up on the bed while clutching the shirt tightly.

Would they never learn? He did everything he could to help his children but he wouldn't take them by the hand and lead them all the way. They had to figure some of it out themselves. Walking over he touched the demon's head lightly and sent him to sleep. With another thought he willed the demon to have pleasant dreams for once. Sighing he pocketed the letter and ported out of hell.

\-------

Porting directly to Sam's room in the Men of Letters bunker he stared into the trash bin near the desk. Snapping his fingers the ticket stub moved to the back corner of the desk's center drawer; the tie moved to hang on the same hanger as a suit Sam rarely wore. Pleased he finally made his way to the room next door.

\-------

Walking in he watched the two brothers sleeping fitfully. The sheets and blankets had become twisted over and around various limbs. Shaking his head he extended one finger and waved it from the bottom of the bed upward. Instantly the bedding righted itself over the brothers. Much better he thought as he made his way to the desk.

Placing the papers on the desk he put one finger on the letter and thought _'for Sam Winchester's eyes only unless or until he so chooses to share'_ before lifting the finger. Knowing Sam there were a few people he might choose to share with sooner or later. Turning he went back to watching the brothers sleep. Sam twisted and cried out softly. Still sleeping Dean pulled his brother closer and mumbled to him softly.

The two had been through so much. Perhaps he should grant them one small kindness before leaving. Walking over to the bed he reached down and placed a finger gently on the forehead of both of the brothers. _Be at peace,_ he ordered. Standing he watched as the tension eased from both of the brothers. Finally they were both sleeping peacefully. Nodding to himself he finally ported out of the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't throw things... There is a sequel. R&R please?


End file.
